


About that D, sir

by Tiramasu



Category: EXO (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, British Comedy, Crack, GCSEs, M/M, band au, bts is the dance group, but its mostly just pure crack, exo is the school band, hobi wants sugas dick, low key mentions of abuse, low key rivalry, namjoon x greggs, outdated memes, public school, roadman!baekhyun, scottish bodybuilder, smart!chanyeol, suho x edibles, taekook is the school's power couple, theres a cat called thanos, they live in the endz, trust me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 10:47:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18248300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiramasu/pseuds/Tiramasu
Summary: Baekhyun is part of the school band, EXO. Taehyung is part of the school dance group, BTS. They're good friends, I guess. Chanyeol is...there but he doesn't want to be.AU where our favourite lads attend a public school in East London and there are about as many niche memes that I can count - only British kids will get them but everyone else is welcome to try too lol.





	About that D, sir

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THIS FIRST:  
> Aight lads, I'll be honest. I wrote this shit wayy back in the Summer of 2018 and there are lots of outdated memes, my writing was cringe and shite and I got so tired of the fic by the end of it that the ending isn't an ending at all. But hey, if this ever gets more than three readers who actually care then I might finish it. Leave a comment if you're feeling spicy; seriously, it's real sad hours right now and even if you're comment said 'it good' or whatever I'd still appreciate it. I hate this piece of writing sm but I remember working real hard on it and I don't want to let past me down, y'know?  
> Peace out!

It’s no secret that Byun Baekhyun is a disorganised mess of quivering emotions and immeasurable procrastination.

He wasn’t _hated_ by his teachers per se, but let’s just say that if by any chance, they were placing bets in that shady little staff room of theirs, which student they _knew_ didn’t do their homework then it would be him.

In his defence, Baekhyun couldn’t help it if he thought homework was worse than the 5p bag charge. He once told Taehyung that he’d much rather watch a ten-hour video of Jake Paul screeching into a camera than even _think_ about Henry and his eight wives. He wasn’t sure if it was to spite him or just to be ironic but only a few days later Taehyung plonked him down in his room and the two of them binged through Shane Dawson’s eight-part series without a single qualm. By the end of it, Baekhyun still hadn’t touched his overdue history assignment. Although it was, in his opinion, time well spent, his history teacher couldn’t say the same and neatly stamped his homework with a ‘U’ for ungradable.

“You have an issue, mate, ” Taehyung had told him after Baekhyun’s third detention that week.

Byun Baekhyun adored Kim Taehyung.

The two of them had been together since the beginning. Literally. When Baekhyun had only just learnt how to walk his parents took him to the hospital to visit his grandfather. Needless to say, Baekhyun, being the curious little child that he was, wandered off down the wards and somehow found himself in a room where a poor woman, surrounded by nurses and doctors, was screaming and crying like her life depended on it. Naturally, this was pretty fucking horrific in the eyes of a toddler so Baekhyun also burst into tears which gave the staff and the woman the fright of their lives. Thinking him a bad omen, the woman gave one final screech of a new profound terror, shock and subsequent confusion and thus, Taehyung was born.

From that point on, after all, misunderstandings had been cleared, Baekhyun and Taehyung became inseparable. There was nothing that one could say that the other would judge or shame them for. For all intents and purposes, they had become brothers by choice.

Baekhyun was older than Taehyung by two and a half years so, by the time Taehyung got into year 7, Baekhyun was already in year 9 with a well-established friend group. Baekhyun offered a place for Taehyung but the little tyke had his eyes set on something different. The two of them joined separate clubs and by proxy, made different friends too. Baekhyun with the school band called EXO and Taehyung with the dance group, BTS.

Everyone in the school anticipated a rivalry between the two clubs. Both of which were the most popular but also the most exclusive; they had fanbases _within_ the school and were even permitted to hold their own shows. It was the perfect layout for a toxic gang war to take place but instead, it took an alternate route when the leader of BTS, Namjoon, found out that he had a spare sausage roll from Greggs and offered it to Junmyeon. Baekhyun would never forget the day when Junmyeon turned to them with resolve in his eyes and flakes of pastry clinging to the side of his mouth.

“Fuck me,” he had said. “Like hell am I letting Nam-fucking-joon be the better person.”

Later that week he had promptly invited all seven members of BTS out for Nandos and although he had come back broke as shit, Baekhyun had never seen him look more satisfied. But it was short lived because the next day Seokjin brought them individual bags of homemade ‘brownies’ as a means of repayment.

Junmyeon, after furiously scoffing down three of the brownies, was high off his shit and livid.

This sparked a different kind of war where both groups were committing acts of kindness, not out of the goodness of their hearts but more out of a rage-sex, ‘I’m-not-being-polite-I’m-just-being-better-than-you’ kind of way. In any case, this obscure relationship was undoubtedly one of the weirdest fucking things that Baekhyun has ever seen.

But even though the two groups were different, Taehyung and Baekhyun always made time for each other regardless of schedules and of course, the homework that Baekhyun never did.

When Taehyung reached year 8 he finally confessed his feelings for Jungkook, whom he apparently had harboured a crush on since last summer. Baekhyun had listened to him drone on and on about the colour of his eyes (even though they were all Korean so they literally had the same fucking eye colour) and the fluidity of his body when he danced. However, when it actually came down the confession, Taehyung didn’t tell Baekhyun about it first. He said it was pretty casual and that he had asked him out in front of a Sainsbury’s store downtown. Baekhyun had whined so much about not being there that Taehyung felt obliged to write a script for him:

Me: Ay fam don’t you get tired of eating sandwiches every day?  
Jungkook: It’s a meal deal, mate. Cheap and cheerful.  
Me: I could buy you a proper meal tomorrow if you want.  
Jungkook: But you’re skint, bruv.  
Me: I’d spend any money I had for you, fam.  
Jungkook: Sounds like you’re taking me on a date, you cheeky lad.  
Me: I am. I’m asking you to go out with me.  
Jungkook: Aight.

For about three days straight Baekhyun didn’t talk to Taehyung; he had been furious that he didn’t tell him about his confession even after he had sat through almost a year and a half worth of nonsensical gay drovel. Secondly, he couldn’t believe that Taehyung’s first relationship had started outside a motherfucking _Sainsbury’s_.

But he could never stay mad at Taehyung for long and at the end of the day, Baekhyun was happy for him and incredibly proud. After the first announcement of their relationship, the entire school lost their shit, especially the girls, who went just a little overboard in showing their support. For the first week, Taehyung and Jungkook were showered with compliments from their congratulating peers and every so often the girls who took GCSE art would anonymously email them fanart through their school emails. Which never ended well because school emails were always monitored, to some extent, by the teachers.

Eventually, the hype surrounding the new and iconic gay couple simmered down and although it brought BTS more revenue, they were finally able to settle back down into normalcy.

Currently, Baekhyun was now in year 11 and Taehyung was in year 9. He was well aware of the fact that GCSE’s were fast approaching and all of his teachers had constantly stressed the fact that judging by the way he was going now, he wouldn’t be able to raise his grades high enough to get into any other school outside the burrow. At first, Baekhyun didn’t care. This burrow was all he knew. It was his comfort zone, he had street-cred, he was on a first-name basis with his drug dealer, Finlay,  he was well-liked by peers. _He was okay_. But two months into year 11, he began to think otherwise.

He didn’t know when he started to harbour doubts about his future but it was something about the way he saw things that were beginning to change. He began to notice the grittiness of the streets, short, stubby buildings made of grey slabs of concrete and wisps of newspapers that floated the pavement like tumbleweeds. He noticed the smell, always a trace of smoke and weed. He noticed the people who walked with hunched backs and cigarettes between their fingers instead of wedding rings. He began to question if he could live out his entire life here and here alone. He wondered if he'd end up like his parents and the thought alone sent shivers down his spine.

He told Taehyung about it one night. He had been watching him play the new spiderman game on his PS4, and whilst Tae had been focusing on the intricate web-swinging system, Baekhyun had been fascinated by the layout of the city. As Peter Parker swung from building to building with his cornucopia of webs, Baekhyun had been stunned by the lambent lights on the tall, sprawling skyscrapers. 

“Would you ever like to go to New York, Tae?” He asked and Taehyung shrugged idly.

“Sure, maybe one day when we’re not skint.”

“We could make it,” Baekhyun assured, shifting suddenly so that he was touching Taehyung’s arm. “I could be a singer and you could be a dancer. We could be famous! I could _finally_ meet Tom Hardy!”

Taehyung cast him a dubious glance from the corner of his eye before looking back at the game where Peter Parker was suddenly being blasted by three rocket launchers and a dustbin.

“Sure,” he said again. “If you can get the right grades first and honestly, I doubt your dad would allow it.”

Baekhyun couldn’t argue with that logic. He was still far off from being a professional singer and his only chance of getting better was to go to a music college. All the good ones were in London and Baekhyun only had Ds and F grades to offer. Being the way that he was now they’d never accept him, but if a change could occur...if Baekhyun could study hard and raise his grades then it could very possibly be possible. Not to mention is more than difficult relationship with his dad, the notorious alcoholic of the family who was forever stingy with their money.

That night, on a drizzly Tuesday evening, Baekhyun made a vow to himself that if he wanted to live out a future worth living then he’d better work hard for it. He had gleefully told Taehyung about his promise to himself and Tae had nodded respectfully, told him that he was proud of him and then said, ‘Did you do your English homework, by the way?’.

Baekhyun managed to write three measly paragraphs as opposed to the requested ten that night and when he sheepishly handed it in, his teacher, Mr Barrow furrowed his forehead, then raised his eyebrows, then dropped his jaw open. 

“Did you write this, Baekhyun?”

“...yeah?”

“Why...this...this is one of the best pieces of writing I’ve ever seen!”

Baekhyun nearly choked and he looked up in obvious disbelief. Perhaps his dream wasn’t as far as he had thought? “Really?” He asked.

Mr Barrow clicked his jaw shut and his expression collapsed into his usual, stoic frown. He stamped the essay with a ‘D’. “No. Detention at lunchtime for not doing your homework properly.”

Baekhyun postponed his promise for after Thursday instead.

\----

It had been three months since he had made the promise to himself and since then, Baekhyun had all but forgotten about it. Every now and then in band practice, he’d have a moment where he hit a particularly impressive high-note and he’d think ‘damn I should be a professional singer’ but that was pretty much it.

Taehyung, on the other hand, had been doing pretty well in his studies but then again he always had been the more capable one. Taehyung was one of those assholes that never revised but always came out with somewhat decent grades and Baekhyun would always hold a grudge against him for that. But now Taehyung had actually taken to ‘studying’ with Jungkook during breaks. Jungkook was actually a ridiculously smart kid and Baekhyun had no idea what he was doing in a grotty place like this, Jungkook had shrugged and admitted with brutal honesty that he was staying for the sake of Taehyung, BTS and not much else. Jungkook had the academic skill to go anywhere he wanted and although Baekhyun couldn’t relate, he sure as hell could appreciate it.

Especially as he was now.

\---

“Half equations, man. What the fuck are they?”

Jungkook grinned at Taehyung over the rim of his book. “It’s basic chemistry.”

“‘Basic’ my arse, ” Taehyung refuted, tossing down his chewed pencil as a sign of resignation. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms high above his head, his glasses slipped down the slope of his nose and Jungkook reached across the table to push them back. “Thanks.”

Jungkook had always loved Taehyung in glasses even though his boyfriend had told him countless times that there was nothing attractive about dodgy vision. However, Jungkook’s kink stretched further than just his opinion; Taehyung in glasses was almost as iconic as the school mascot, which, for whatever bizarre reason, was a salmon wearing a t-shirt.

“We still have two years until our GCSE exams,” Taehyung said with a dismissive yawn. “Why are you studying so hard?”

“I have strict parents,” Jungkook replied as he turned a page. “Which might come as a surprise to you since literally no one gives a shit about grades ‘round here.”

“You want out, don’t you?”

Jungkook looked at him again and gave a minute nod of his head. His parents were strict on him for a reason; they understood that Jungkook had widespread talent and that he could achieve a lot more than they ever did. Jungkook never wanted to leave Taehyung but the choice between his future and his boyfriend was one that he’d have to decide between very soon.

Taehyung was selfless. More often than not he’d encourage Jungkook to take over the world with his talent in dancing and at every opportunity, Namjoon would put him centre stage at Taehyung’s request. That was one of the many things Jungkook loved about him. But sometimes, on rare occasions, he would hate it. Sometimes, when Taehyung clapped him on the back after dance practice and said ‘well done, Kookie. You’ll be famous one day.’, Jungkook wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. _Stop being so nice!_ He wanted to scream. _Stop making it seem like I’m going to leave you behind! Beg me to stay and I will!_

“I’d stay if you wanted me to,” Jungkook said after a long pause and Taehyung laughed and pinched his cheek with gentle affection. Jungkook leaned into his touch. “I’m serious.”

“Sure you are, ” said Taehyung with that radiant smile of his and that was the end of that.

They settled back into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by Jungkook’s rhythmic tapping with his pencil and Taehyung’s phone, which pinged every now and then as he beat his high score in Crossy roads and it stayed that way until Baekhyun stumbled through the library doors with a stricken expression marring his face.

“Lads, I forgot to do my English essay.”

“As always,” Taehyung replied without looking up from his phone. “I swear Mr Barrow’s gonna exclude you this time.”

Baekhyun sat down with a sheepish smile and dumped his school bag on the table. Everyone flinched when the table creaked and sank slightly under the weight, Jungkook most of all; he poked the bag with his pencil, half expecting the contents to be solid gold or concrete. “What the hell do you have in here, Baek?”

“I haven’t cleared out my bag in like six months,” Baekhyun answered nonchalantly. “I’m pretty sure I still got my books from year 10 in there.”

“No wonder your posture’s shite, bruv.”

“You’re a dancer, of course _you’d_ say that.”

Jungkook swore mildly at Baekhyun who stuck his tongue out in return. “About my homework though, I got English next and I’m already on a red report. I might genuinely get kicked out this time.”

“Fam, even _I_ can’t bullshit an essay in twenty minutes. You’re proper fucked.”

Baekhyun kicked Taehyung’s ankle under the table and Taehyung pinched his arm hard.

“I might have to start selling my body for real this time and you don’t even care, you’re supposed to be my _brother_.”

“We’re not related, you nonce, ” Taehyung replied and he threw up a ‘V’ sign over his eye as his own little way of saying ‘your problem’.

Baekhyun shot a pleading look towards Jungkook instead but he wasn’t having it either; although Jungkook still managed to look somewhat guilty in his ignorance he still made no offer to help. After all, he was in the same mindset as Taehyung in terms of thinking that it wasn’t his problem.

“The closest strip club is an hour away,” Baekhyun moaned. “I’m not ready for the commute.”

"Be a porn star instead,” offered Taehyung. “You can work from home and I can help set up lights, me nan bought me a lava lamp last year.”

“That’s...actually the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Baekhyun replied as Jungkook reared up and slapped Taehyung on the arm in disgust.

“Uh, excuse me-”

The three of them all turned around with eerie synchronisation, like a cluster of owls that had just heard their prey. The new voice belonged to a ridiculously tall guy who loomed over their table, but instead of casting an intimidating shadow he gave off an endearing kind of nervous apprehension instead. As if _they_ were the ones who were scary.

“Wagwan-”

“Oi, oi-”

“Alright, bruv?”

The new guy seemed to wither under their gazes but when he spoke his voice was steady and deep. Baekhyun noticed that he didn’t have much of an accent either, not like theirs anyway. “I couldn’t help but overhear your uh...conversation-”

“About the porn, huh.” Taehyung interrupted, clapping Baekhyun on the shoulder. “You want in on the action too, eh? What a lad.”

Truthfully, Taehyung predicted two different reactions, one of which included a timid blush and an awkward ‘erm...no thanks’ or alternatively, a roguish smirk and a shameless, ‘Sure.’ In which case Taehyung would have to step in and shuck it off as a joke because as attractive as Baekhyun was, Tae wasn’t about to let him get dicked by a total stranger.

However, instead of either of those scenarios playing out, Taehyung was taken aback when he received a cold glare and a flash of hostility. Perhaps he had offended him somehow? Or cut too deep without even knowing? The glare vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared and no one else seemed to have noticed, but it was powerful enough to shut him up with immediate effect.

“I was going to talk about your English homework, ” he said, turning to Baekhyun, “I’m in a different class but I think we did the same one, Macbeth, right?”

Baekhyun nodded, unsure of where this was going.

The stranger pulled out a sheet of paper from his bag and offered it to them. “You can have mine. I did two.”

“Why would you do two essays? That’s peak.”

He shrugged and hoisted his bag back over his shoulder. “The first one had a few mistakes in so I redid it. It should be enough to get you past though.”

 _Wow. A nerd._ Taehyung thought.

“Wow. An angel, ” Baekhyun said, “I think you just- I dunno. Saved my life, man.”

“Don’t worry about it. Can’t have you turning into a stripper now, can we?”

Baekhyun didn’t want to admit that stripping was one of his only go-to options. “Right...uh-”

“Chanyeol, ” said Chanyeol. “I’ll see you around, _Baek_.”

After Chanyeol left there was a daunting silence amongst them. Taehyung was sulking and for once, Jungkook didn’t know what to think. On any other occasion, he would ask Yoongi to deliver a swift punch to those who dared put Tae in a bad mood, but Chanyeol seemed a little undeserving of a black eye.

Baekhyun looked at them and then down at his crotch and then back up to them. “I have the most confused hard-on right now.”

“I couldn’t tell if he was a nerd, a git, a chav or a knock-off Christian Grey.”

“A git,” said Taehyung, glacially. “For sure.”

Baekhyun didn’t seem to hear him because he was busy fanning himself with his paper, looking slightly overwhelmed and he said, in a tone of wonderment. ‘Tae. Kookie. I think I might be gay’ as if he didn’t already have a list of future husbands hanging up in his room.

Jungkook snorted and twirled his pencil pensively between his fingers and ducked his head as he resumed his studying. “We done bin knew, Baek. We done bin knew.”

\---

Baekhyun had been nervous about handing the assignment in. It was one thing that he never did his homework but it was something entirely different if he was caught cheating. He shuffled anxiously from foot to foot as Mr Barrow inspected his work, trying his best not to look _too_ obvious.

Mr Barrow raised his head and looked at him with a testy gaze as if he were trying to suss him out. Baekhyun held his breath, looking everywhere but him; for a moment Baekhyun was sure he was going to get kicked out of the school for lying about his assignment but instead Mr Barrow sat back and wrote ‘B’ in the corner.

“I have to say I’m surprised, Byun. Are you turning over a new leaf?”

“Just hope it’s not too late to turn things around, sir.”

Mr Barrow eyed him carefully again before offering the paperback. Baekhyun might have been hallucinating but he swore he could have seen the old man’s mouth twitch upwards at the corner. “It’s never too late, Byun. Good effort.”

Soon after Baekhyun left the classroom, Mr Barrow also packed up his things and left for his lunch break; but if he lingered for just a moment longer he would have been able to see Baekhyun, standing in the corridor, pump his fist in triumph and scream ‘Yes!’ at the school’s salmon mascot on the wall before skipping joyously down the hall.

\---

“So you copied someone else’s homework?”

“Well technically he _gave_ it to me but you should have seen his face! He was all broody and ready to give me another detention but I proved him wrong.”

“No- _Chanyeol_ proved him wrong. Tell him, Jongin.”

Jongin, who had been absently tuning his guitar, shrugged and said, “Yeah, I guess it was mostly Chanyeol.”

“ _‘Mostly’?_ ”

Jongin strummed his guitar once and then went back to tuning. “Alright, it was _all_ Chanyeol.”

Junmyeon had spent the last twenty minutes of band practice trying to teach Baekhyun the fundamentals of human decency but Baekhyun had clearly been too caught up in his vindication to take notice of his efforts.

“Who _is_ this ‘Chanyeol’ anyway?” Minseok asked and they all glanced at each other and shrugged.

“He’s been here a while,” Kyungsoo piped up from the back of the room. “He joined halfway through year 8. He’s like 6 foot, _how_ did any of you not notice him before?”

“Chanyeol? Yeah, he’s in my English class.”

Baekhyun, Jongdae and Minseok all screamed in falsetto and Sehun, in his terror, hurled his packet of Jelly babies across the room which smacked into the face of the intruder.

“Yixing!” Junmyeon cried. “What the _fuck_ -”

“Hello, Suho-”

“I thought you _died_!”

Poor Yixing, who looked perpetually high and sleep-deprived, was still picking jelly babies out of his hair when Junmyeon pulled him into a tight hug.

“It’s been like three weeks since you last came to band practice, where have you been?”

“Yeah uh, my mum needed extra help at the restaurant. Sorry.”

Baekhyun draped himself over Jongdae, resting his chin on his shoulder and Jongdae reciprocated the affection by leaning back against him. “You said you knew Chanyeol? Do you know where he hangs out?”

“Jaysus, Baek, you sound like a stalker-”

“Thursdays he’s in the art room and other days he’s in the library. He’s staying behind in school to study today.”

“Jaysus, Lay. You’re a stalker.”

It was a little unnerving the way Yixing knew everything about everyone. Give him half an hour and a name and he could probably tell you the exact time of day when you open Pornhub. Everyone other than them was unsuspecting of Yixing’s keen and observant eye and this was probably due to the fact that he was always quiet in a way where people tend to forget that he was behind them the whole time.

Yixing used to be a main vocalist until his attendance dropped to non-existent. His mother was in charge of a popular Chinese restaurant downtown and due to short staffing, he often had to help out. No one could blame her though, for she was a lovely woman who was very fond of Yixing’s friends. She was apologetic for keeping him away from the band and grateful that they kept a space open for him, even if he wasn’t always there to fulfil it.

“What are you practising today?” Yixing asked as he tapped out a few idle melodies on Minseok’s synthesiser.

"A new song,” answered Sehun, passing him the lyrics. “The Coven produced it just for this gig. It’s gonna our last performance together so we gotta make it big.”

  
Yixing smiled a little wistfully as he recalled The Coven: a trio, essentially, made of three other Chinese members who had graduated the year before, Luhan, Zitao and Yifan. Having been the only other Chinese pupils within the school, Yixing had loved them with vehemence and although the entire band mourned for their absence, Yixing had treated it more egregiously. They kept in touch, of course, and every now and then they would produce songs for them as a sign that EXO hadn’t been entirely forgotten.

 

“Don’t look so glum, mate,” Minseok said brightly, bumping Yixing’s shoulder affectionately, “they promised that they’d be there for the show. It’s in February, think you can make it?”  
  
Yixing smiled again in a way that was truer than any other word of assurance and Sehun slung an arm around his shoulders as Minseok said ‘good man’ with a certain fondness that was reserved only for his quiet ones.

 

\----

 

Taehyung had asked Baekhyun to drop by the studio after band practice if only to have him bring them snacks. It didn’t bother him though, very few things could ever bother Baekhyun for he was the definition of ‘carefree’ and besides, he liked watching BTS perform. For them, dancing was as free as singing was for him. An outlet. An escape. It was visual and filled him with a sense of empowerment and pride, especially during Taehyung’s solos. Baekhyun didn’t want to admit to being biased but... he totally was.

 

He was making his way down the corridor, quietly singing ‘oh Jeremy Corbyn’ to the tune of Seventh nation army when he passed the art room. He could hear the soft buzz of an acoustic guitar being plucked away by a lazy player. It sounded nice and with an errant curiosity, Baekhyun found himself peeking through the door to catch a glimpse of whoever it was.  
  
“Oh! Chanyeol!”  
  
Chanyeol halted in his playing and glanced around the room before finally seeing Baekhyun by the door. He smiled in a way that he hoped didn’t come across as too nasty but not too nice either; as interesting a character as he was, Chanyeol didn’t know Baekhyun well enough to hold a natural conversation. Baekhyun didn’t seem to take the hint because any smile to him was a welcome to initiate absent chatter.  
  
“I didn’t know you played the guitar,” he said and he hoisted himself up onto one of the desks, dropping his concrete bag onto the floor by his feet that couldn’t quite reach the ground. “It sounded bare sick.”  
  
The art room was empty aside from them and it was a cold Thursday in January, meaning the day got dark at five. Sure enough, the clouds outside were deep and heavy with rain that would most likely start hailing the minute he stepped outdoors. There were blank canvases and easels set up around the room, with paint-splattered aprons draped over the backs of chairs as if the students had left in a hurry.

Chanyeol shrugged. “I nicked this from one of the music rooms. Don’t think anyone noticed.”

“My teacher gave me a ‘B’ today. Thanks to you.”

“Only a ‘B’? Good thing I redid it.”

Baekhyun tried not to choke on his own spit. He couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not but a ‘B’ grade was higher than anything he had ever achieved.

“Why do you play here? In an art room?”  
  
“Your band was uh...pretty loud. It’s nicer up here. I think the art students slack off on Thursdays so it’s always empty.”  
  
Baekhyun couldn’t help but take offence, especially with the dismissive nonchalance of his excuse. “You don’t like our music?” He said, less of a question and more of a statement, designed to make him uncomfortable. It seemed to work because Chanyeol shifted and coughed dryly into his fist.  
  
“It’s not that- it’s just...it was loud.”

He broke off into a sheepish mumble towards the end and Baekhyun couldn’t stay mad. It was similar to the effect Taehyung had on him, an overpowering sense of endearment that proved any previous anger to be fatuous and redundant.

“We’re having a gig in February. Our last one before we graduate from this dump. Maybe you should come? I guarantee that any doubts you have about our music will change.”

Chanyeol didn’t seem convinced but he did look amused by the proposal and the way Baekhyun had delivered it with aplomb. “Yeah?” He said, tilting his head up. “You sure?”

It was impressive how his look could go from timid reticence to cocksure arrogance within the blink of an eye. Baekhyun didn't know how to go about pinning down his personality just yet.

“I’m sure of it. I can get you backstage access if you want.”

“You can afford that?”

“Uh...if a cloakroom counts.”  
  
Chanyeol grinned knowingly and Baekhyun’s heart fluttered a little. They spoke for a lot longer than either of them had anticipated, Chanyeol most of all for he often found it difficult to maintain a conversation that held any weight and yet here he was, exchanging banter with Baekhyun in ways he never thought was possible. Nothing they said had any weight to it, of course, it was all meaningless chatter that would make no sense to anyone aside from them. Baekhyun was garrulous, without a doubt; it was evident that out of the both of them, he was the one that was easier to talk to. Words just fell out of their mouths like a song and they both just went with it for the better part of an hour.  
  
“Your parents must be proud of you,” Chanyeol said quite suddenly as he was tuning his guitar.  
  
“Why would they be?”  
  
“Is it not obvious? You’re in a popular band that everyone fawns over and apparently you have the voice of an angel too.”

“Where did you hear that?”

 “I check the school Twitter sometimes,” Chanyeol drawled and he scoffed a little at Baekhyun’s incredulous expression. “I know. Sue me.”

“I wasn’t judging!”

“Mhm. Back to your parents though, do they watch you perform sometimes?”  
  
“Of course not!” Baekhyun said with a short laugh. “Between you and me, my dad hates our music.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah, he can’t stand it.”

Chanyeol looked at Baekhyun for a moment. He retold the story as if it was perfectly natural for a parent to neglect their child. He wanted to ask more but it was obvious that Baekhyun wasn’t going to say anything else.

Amongst their idle talk, Chanyeol had found the true extent of Baekhyun’s bad grades. He’d apparently been working around ‘D’ and ‘E’ grades for all his time at the school and even in primary school he was ‘below average’. Chanyeol asked if it bothered him and Baekhyun told him that he hadn’t cared until a few months ago and now that he had had a taste of what it was like to stun teachers he was beginning to like it.

‘So you want to raise your grades to spite your teachers?’

Baekhyun shrugged and replied with the fact that living in spite was one of the best ways to live. Chanyeol couldn’t quite understand his mentality but it made his heart ache a little.

“Maybe I could tutor you? I don’t mean it in a patronising way-”

“I don’t even know what ‘patronising’, fam and do you really think tutoring will do me any good? We’re already almost halfway through year 11.”

“Then you’d better start soon,” Chanyeol said, with the same type of confidence that mirrored Baekhyun’s. “What better way to spite everyone than to get the grades they never expected?”

Chanyeol had no doubt that they would have carried on talking had it not been for Baekhyun’s phone, which began pinging furiously with a torrent of messages.

“Someone’s popular, ” said Chanyeol in a teasing tone, even though it was no joke; Baekhyun was clearly very well-liked.  
  
“Does that still count if it’s from one person?” Baekhyun replied, scrolling through his phone. “It’s Tae. I forgot to meet him at dance practice.”

“My bad.”  
  
Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol and then grinned. “Nah, you’re tight, bruv.”

He hopped down from the table and slung his bag over his shoulder, “you’ll come to my gig, right?”

  
“Sure, Baek but only if you come to tutoring,” said Chanyeol with and he saluted errantly. “See you tomorrow.”

 

\---

 

“So you’re telling me that you ditched me- your best friend and next of kin- to kick it back with a _stranger_?”

“Don’t be too harsh on him, bruv.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. Baekhyun felt guilty about leaving Taehyung but at the same time, he knew that Taehyung couldn’t hold a grudge for shit, by the time they reached the end of the street he’d be asking to play Spiderman again. Namjoon, ever the instigator, seemed happy enough that Baekhyun had found someone worth swooning over and had been patient and good-natured enough to gather the group and wait for him.

 “Can’t we call an Uber™ home or something?” Seokjin complained, ignoring Taehyung’s sulks.

“You’re broke, Seokjin,” replied Namjoon in a weary tone, as if he had said it a million times and Seokjin simply never caught on. “It’s only a five-minute walk-”

 “I can barely feel my legs, bruv. Dance practice is _killing_ me.”

“Oh that’s not from practice,” Hoseok piped up, cheerfully. “You’re just old.”

Nobody could ever be sure how he did it but Hoseok was incredibly agile, so much so that he was able to effortlessly duck out of the way when Seokjin swatted at him with his arm. Even after a full day of school and an extra hour of dancing Hoseok’s senses never dulled for a second and he was able to laugh off every curse that Seokjin threw his way.

 If he was ever to be confronted about it then Hoseok would say that Seokjin was the least intimidating person he could think of, but if he were to be faced with a pissed off Yoongi then he’d most likely wet himself. Aside from that, a happy Yoongi generally meant an even happier Hoseok. Their dynamic, in Baekhyun’s opinion, was very much like watching an overbearing seagull (Hoseok) swoop down and steal a puffin’s (Yoongi) dinner but instead of the puffin freaking the fuck out and battling the seagull in an aerial fight scene, the puffin unexpectedly stalks the seagull to its nest, beds down next to the seagull and lives out the rest of its life in a platonic relationship. When Baekhyun told the closest person, which was Jimin, about this speculation, Jimin asked him if he was high and if so to share whatever was left. Baekhyun changed the subject a little too quickly.

 “You guys are training for your show, right? When is it?”

 “February. We booked the venue a little while ago- you’re having your gig around that time too, aren’t you?” - Baekhyun nodded in response - “Sick. It’s gonna be like one last celebration before the exam season.”

“Speaking of exam season,” Taehyung interrupted abruptly. “You asked _him_ to tutor you?”

“He offered to.”

“Since when did you start caring about grades, bruv? You’re literally the most laid back geezer in the burrow.”

Baekhyun shrugged and he suddenly felt like he was being scrutinised by too many people. “I guess I don’t want to be that person anymore.”

Taehyung looked a little surprised and when everyone else went quiet it seemed as though the atmosphere had gone from cheerful banter to honest trepidation far too quickly and now everyone was suffering from a bout of vertigo.

“Would you look at that,” said Seokjin in a slightly hoarse voice but no less proud. “That’s what I call character development.”

Baekhyun was the oldest one here and he felt a little embarrassed to be complemented by a bunch of year 9 students but Seokjin had a way with people that made them feel special.

When they finally reached the end of the road, Taehyung and Baekhyun had to split off from the rest of the group to get home. As a joke, Baekhyun had told Taehyung to ‘kiss Jungkook goodbye’, clearly unaware of how literal Taehyung would take it.

In two strides he was suddenly upon Jungkook like a feral predator and he grabbed the coarse material of his school blazer and smashed their lips together with such ferocity that Jungkook stumbled back into the wall. 

“That’s butters,” said Yoongi in dismay. “Why'd you have to say that, bruv.”

They all pulled faces of disgust as Taehyung slammed Jungkook harder into the wall, tilting his head until his mouth was almost wrapped around Jungkook’s jaw.

“It’s uh...usually best to let them do their thing,” Namjoon muttered, coughing into his fist to discreetly hide the dark blush creeping up his neck. “They’ll calm down eventually.”

At that moment, like one of those ill-timed Twitch coincidences, Jungkook let out a shamelessly loud moan. “Come here, you sexy, motherfucking _beast_ ,” growled Taehyung into Jungkook’s ear even though it was physically impossible for them to be any closer than they were at that moment.

Taehyung wound his fingers into Jungkook’s hair and pulled his head to the side, kissing his way down his exposed neck. Funnily enough, it was strangely similar to those ancient, black-and-white Dracula films. 

“You have to make them stop, Namjoon. I swear on Mary Berry’s life-”

“Don’t you _dare_ speak of Mary Berry like that!”

Whilst the two of them were bickering back and forth, Taehyung had already taken the initiative to turn this ‘goodbye kiss’ into something much more; he sank down to his knees and Namjoon yelped as if he had been physically burned.

“No! Bad!”  
  
Yoongi was judging them a little too hard and he shouldered his way past a flailing Namjoon, grabbed Taehyung by the collar of his blazer and hauled him off of Jungkook who looked blissfully dazed. He threw Taehyung into Baekhyun’s arms and wiped his hands on Hoseok’s shirt.

“Yoongi, you absolute ledge, ” Namjoon started but Yoongi silenced him with a smouldering glare and with a final wave, the rest of the group left down the opposite road, Hoseok dragging a limp Jungkook behind him.

Taehyung smoothed back his floppy hair and smiled at Baekhyun as if nothing had happened; as if he hadn’t just attempted to give Jungkook a blowjob in public. Then he had the audacity to say, “Can I play Spiderman at your house, Baek?”“You can fuck right off, mate.”

  
\----

 

True to his word, Baekhyun started to go to tutoring lessons with Chanyeol the next week, he was faithfully dedicated to it: every weekday after school for one hour in the art studio overlooking the school field. Junmyeon moved band practice to lunchtimes and weekends and for once things were beginning to work out in everyone’s favour.

Chanyeol was a surprisingly good tutor; he had no problem teaching any of the subjects and he taught them in a way that Baekhyun thought was interesting. He was almost learning things without even realising and his teachers, obviously baffled by his change in attitude, made it all the more worth it. Of course that didn’t mean that there were downsides to it as well; Baekhyun was more prone to mental breakdowns than he ever had been, pulling at his hair and making quiet whines of despair when he couldn’t understand something; once or twice he even broke down into tears but as embarrassing as it was, Chanyeol was ridiculously patient and he learned to recognise the symptoms of the breakdowns even before Baekhyun did. 

Chanyeol would put down his pencil and pull out the guitar that had now taken up residence in the corner of the art room, then he’d play something mellow and soft and it was so utterly different to how Jongin played; Chanyeol played pensively whereas Jongin played without thought and without restrictions. He’d wait for Baekhyun to calm down, to wipe his tired eyes and just listen; Sometimes Baekhyun would sing along, his voice would be a bit more watery and croaky than it usually was but when he sang, all traces of his harsh accent would disappear and around Chanyeol he would drop his popular, tough lad act and he didn’t know if Chanyeol knew how vulnerable he really was, not many people did. Up until now, Taehyung had been the only one to know that Baekhyun watched unironic TikTok videos or that deep down he couldn’t stand the taste of the ‘Monster’ energy drink or that his favourite singer was actually the ‘Adele’. But Baekhyun had decided that he wouldn’t mind if Chanyeol knew as well.

“You have an amazing voice,” Chanyeol said one night and although Baekhyun had heard the words countless times before from various people, for some bizarre reason, hearing them come from him made his heart thrum with pride. He opened his mouth to say something but Chanyeol cut him off.

“I know what you’re going to say: ‘ _my voice will sound better at the gig.”_

Baekhyun grinned. He couldn’t help it, it was one of the things he liked about Chanyeol: the fact that he could read his mind almost as well as Taehyung could.

“You don’t need to worry. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m guessing you’re gonna be a professional singer, huh?”

Baekhyun leaned his chin in the palm of his hand and hummed. “Yeah, but convincing my parents is probably even harder than getting the grades.”

“Let me guess, your dad doesn’t want you to become a singer?”

“I’ve never really spoken to him about it. Every time I try he doesn’t really listen, so I guess not.”

Chanyeol looked a little wistful at that like he couldn’t understand that parents like his could exist, the type that wouldn’t support their son’s endeavours. “I’m sorry to hear that, man. I’m sure he’ll come around when he sees how much you love music. A heart to heart conversation might work.”

Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol and Chanyeol looked back at him, his lips quirking up into a charming smile that made his eyes glitter with an ethereal type of luminance. Baekhyun couldn’t believe it: he was beginning to sound like Taehyung. He looked away from his eyes and stared past him to the window instead. It was ridiculously dark outside even though it was only five; the window acted more like a mirror and Baekhyun could see his own face staring back at himself with a knowing leer as if to say _‘you’re very very gay, Byun Baekhyun’._

But he didn’t care because what could go wrong? He wasn’t failing in classes anymore, his band was planning a gig that they would never forget, the closest thing he had to a brother was excelling in both his studies and his dancing and Chanyeol was smiling at him like Baekhyun was the only person he had eyes for.

For Baekhyun, things were working perfectly.

 

\---

 

On Monday, things began to fall apart.

“When you get to the chromatic scale on the third-page try to go harder on every second note and Jongin? Try to keep the bass guitar more subtle until you get to the sixth bar- okay, are we good? From the beginning.”

They had three weeks to perfect everything until their show and although Baekhyun should have been tired from his extra tutoring lessons he could only feel giddy and excited. The dedicated students of GCSE art had helped to make pamphlets and posters that they stuck all over the school and around the burrow.  
  
Halfway through their second song, they were interrupted by a relentless knocking at the door. Jongin’s bass guitar hushed into silence and Sehun’s drums clattered clumsily as they all looked at each other and then at Junmyeon who looked equally confused.  
  
“You uh...plan on answering that, bruv?”

Junmyeon shot Minseok an indignant look and wrenched the door open, the others crowded around behind him like comical puppies. “Namjoon?” He said in surprise and when he glanced down the corridor he saw the rest of the dance group close behind him and further back still was a small gathering of other students, mostly the girls who were exclusive BTS fans. “Can I...help-”

  
“We need to talk, ” Yoongi interrupted and he shouldered his way past Junmyeon and the rest of the group into the crowded music room. Yixing, who was only there for moral support, looked up from his phone and raised his hand as he acknowledged the dancers.  
  
Namjoon looked a little guilty about their intrusion but Yoongi didn’t give him enough time to apologise for it. “It’s about our dance show and your gig, it looks like the venue was double-booked.”  
  
Junmyeon looked stunned. “No...we booked that shit all the way back in December!”  
  
“So did we,” Namjoon said sedately but without much remorse. “All other spaces are booked up and even if we do change venues the crowds won’t be the same. Very few people want to go to two shows back to back.”

 “What are you saying?” asked Kyungsoo, even though it was pretty clear what they were asking. “You want us to cancel our gig and give you our venue?”  
  
“It’s not _your_ venue,” Yoongi refuted in a sharp tone and Hoseok silenced him wearily with a hand to the shoulder.  
  
“We know how much this gig means to you but we’ve worked _damn_ hard for this show-”  
  
“-and you think we haven’t?” Jongin interjected. “I’ve practised on my guitar so much that my fingers are blistering!”  
  
“And _we’ve_ been living off a diet of Monster, Lucozade and shit coffee!”  
  
There was an electric type of static in the air that hung about them like a toxic gas, one flame, one spark and the entire room could go down in flames. No one could have anticipated the hostility that radiated from the opposite group, up until then they had been perfectly civil in perfect solidarity.  
  
“This is our last ever gig,” said Kyungsoo. “All of you are in Year 9, you’ll get two more chances. We have none, once we leave this school we’ll likely go our separate ways and EXO won’t exist anymore.”

Everyone stared at Kyungsoo as if he had said something damnable and in a way he had. Baekhyun had completely forgotten about the truth and judging by everyone else’s expression they had done the same, repressed it in such a way that they wouldn’t have to deal with it until the time came. What Kyungsoo said was the truth that none of them had wanted to acknowledge.

“You don’t understand,” Yoongi said. “This might be your last but this is our first. We’ve fixed up everything, we took everything into account, we worked so hard for this.”

“Surely you don’t believe that you can guilt-trip us into giving up the fucking venue,” said Jongin and he glanced at Junmyeon for validation. When he didn’t reply, Jongin narrowed his eyes and said in a rather sharp tone, “Right, Suho?”

Both groups looked toward their leaders in desperation, neither of them willing to back down. Namjoon looked at Junmyeon and Junmyeon glanced away for fear that he might give in. It would break the hearts of his team but would allow Namjoon’s to thrive. Could he be so selfless? 

Opposite him, Namjoon was having an equally pressing dilemma. His group had been so excited for this show, it would be the first one they held outside of the school, completely independent, self-funded and _special_ , or that was at least what Namjoon had promised them. Should he go back on that promise?

In the silence of the room, Baekhyun made eye-contact with Taehyung. He knew it would be completely unfair of him to ask it of him but he shot him a pleading look anyway, anything to make him see reason and hopefully talk some sense into his friends as well. They didn’t understand but maybe he did, surely Taehyung knew how important this was? But his friend looked away and didn’t say a word and Baekhyun begged himself not to but a flush of anger and betrayal surged through his body anyway.

“We need time to think,” Junmyeon said finally, looking defeated. The members of EXO looked up at him in dismay and horror whilst those of BTS looked guilty and relieved.  
  
“Thank you,” Namjoon said quietly but Junmyeon didn’t look at him. Namjoon quietly herded the others out of the room, smartly avoiding the probing questions of the people outside.  
  
“You’re joking,” Jongdae cried after the door shut behind them. “You’re taking the piss!! You’re just going to cancel our show?”

“Chen-”

“No! Shut up!” Jongdae, whom Baekhyun had never seen so angry, ignored Minseok’s pleas and hounded in on Junmyeon. “Suho, you absolute wanker, please tell me you’re bluffing.”

“I don’t know!” Snapped Junmyeon and even though he spoke in a level tone, Jongdae flinched as if he had been slapped across the face.

“What about The Coven?” Jongdae pleaded and everyone could tell it was a desperate last attempt to convince him. “They wrote those songs for us, they were all set to see us. Lay, don’t you want to see them again?”

That was sort of a low blow and Yixing, himself, seemed ready to sink into the floor and disappear. “Of course I want to see them,” he said quietly. “Of course I do.”

“Then why aren’t you saying anything?”

“ _Chen_ ,” Minseok hissed and he gripped onto his arm. “Allow it, mate. It’s not Suho’s fault. You’ve got to calm your shit.”

  
Jongdae shook him off angrily and for a moment Baekhyun thought he would hit him, but instead, he just shoved him away; not necessarily in a forceful way but harsh enough to warn Minseok that he wasn’t having any of it.

“Is this still about your feud? You want to be the ‘nice guy’ so badly that all Namjoon needs to do is ask and you’ll drop everything, is that it? Because we’re the ‘hyungs’?” At this point, Minseok had stopped trying to calm Jongdae down and instead he gawped at him from the side. Jongdae seethed, his attractive face was contorted by anger like acid bubbling under a thin-spread surface of sugar. “Or are you making this personal?”

Junmyeon shook his head weakly and he seemed to sag under the weight of their accusatory stares.

“Are you really sure?” Said Jongdae, “because it sure as hell is beginning to feel like it.”

This time Jongin joined too; everything about him read nervous but again, much like Chanyeol when Baekhyun had first met him, his voice was as steady as a rock without so much as a waver. “Is that what’s happening, Suho? Fuck, I thought it was just peak banter but this is taking it a step too bloody far. Do you fancy Namjoon or something?”

“I don’t fancy him, you arse!” Snapped Junmyeon. “Why the shit are you ganging up on me? I’m trying to handle this like a responsible leader-”  
  
“But you’re not being a responsible friend.” Kyungsoo murmured quietly and Junmyeon went silent immediately, stunned by the weight of his words before he shook his head again.

“I need to think things over,” he begged and Baekhyun had never seen his friend look so defeated. But Baekhyun was angry too, he was furious that all these extra hours might have been for nothing. Namjoon and Yoongi weren’t here to fuel the fight, only Junmyeon. Baekhyun was sorry for it but not sorry enough to defend him.

Jongin and Jongdae didn’t look so repentant. “Go on then, Junmyeon. ‘Think about it’. Think about how this stupid band has wasted our time. ‘We are one’ my arse.”

Baekhyun considered the possibility of an alien possession because he had never heard Jongdae speak with such vulgarity before and as the two of them left the room he was filled with a sense of dread: what if he was witnessing the end of a beautiful friendship?

“All of you get out.”

Minseok and Yixing opened their mouths to protest but Junmyeon grabbed Minseok’s school bag off the floor and shoved it into his arms. “Go! I need time to think. Band is cancelled.”

Baekhyun wondered if it was indefinite.

 

\---

@absolute_mad_lad · 2h

Yo wtf is going on with BTS and EXO?? Its EXOs last ever gig if yall fuck this up istg #stbarnesschool

 

@urledgegaz136 · 1h

EXO gig was cancelled? I’ve got nothing to motivate me for exams now fuuuu- #stbarnesschool

 

@hit_or_miss · 1h

Istg if u dickwads keep hating on BTS I’ll pay Callie to castrate you it’s not their fault yall are just shites #stbarnesschool

 

@Namjoon_bts · 30m

Everyone who was looking forward to our show please bear with us, we’re trying to resolve this asap 🙏 #stbarnesschool

 

@absolute_mad_lad · 20s

Where tf is Suho??? #stbarnesschool

 

\---

Things at school got progressively worse for the band members. The school twitter page, which had been as dormant as you’d expect it to be, had exploded with furious arguments from students and people outside of school alike.

The music rooms had stayed empty for the past week or so and Baekhyun no longer knew where to hide during lunchtimes. Junmyeon had seemed to vanish off the face of the Earth and the other members had scattered around the school.

“That’s supposed to be a four, not a six, Baek.”  
  
Baekhyun looked down at his work and cursed as he crossed out the numbers. “Sorry, I’m just- _fuck_.”

He had scribbled too hard; he tried to rewrite the numbers but he could feel the despair welling up at the back of his throat. “I’m just not with it, I’m-”

“Hey, woah, don’t worry! It’s okay, don’t cry, Baek.”  
  
He dropped his pen and pressed the heels of his palms so hard against his eyes that he could see black spots swirling around his peripherals. “Gimme a sec, mate I’ll-I’m okay.”

He almost laughed because it was so obviously clear that he wasn’t. The stress of the exams was getting to him and he was so worked up about Taehyung and Junmyeon and the band and the show and wow, okay he was crying hard now. Baekhyun felt pathetic and he must have looked a right state, shoulders shuddering as he sobbed into his trembling hands. There was a terrible weight that seemed to be suffocating him, squeezing his lungs into submission until he could think of nothing else; he wasn’t crying tears of upset, it was more like an overwhelming wave of frustration along with something that bordered on self-loathing.

“Chanyeol…” he wheezed out. He didn’t want to look at him. He didn’t want to let Chanyeol see him like this but perhaps he could find some comfort in saying his name, “Pythagoras can suck my dick but I swear I’m not crying because of him...it’s….it’s-”  
  
“Sure,” Chanyeol said and there was no trace of judgement in his voice. “Sure, Baekhyun, you’re crying manly tears. Pythagoras’ got no shit on you.”  
  
Baekhyun laughed miserably and a few moments later, Chanyeol’s voice was replaced with the gentle swell of his guitar. Baekhyun didn’t really understand it but at the sound of Chanyeol’s guitar, his mind would, without fail, be instantly soothed. Sure enough, the tears faded away and Baekhyun was left feeling empty, tired and cold.  
  
“You okay?” Chanyeol asked over the soft plucking of the strings.  
  
Baekhyun shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself. “I just feel...so pissed off.”  
  
“At who?”  
  
_At Namjoon. At Junmyeon. At the stupid nonce who double-booked us._ “At myself.” He murmured, “I tried to make my best friend sacrifice his work for the sake of my own. I betrayed another by not standing up for him when he needed it, I managed to drag you into the impossible task of tutoring me- I mean, what kind of a shit person am I?”  
  
“You’re not. You’re just over-dramatic. Don’t make it sound like any of these problems are irreversible. All of this can be fixed if you just agree to _talk_ to them and uh...you didn’t ‘drag’ me, I’d say you _charmed_ me into it instead.”

Chanyeol words were meant to sober, not to comfort and Baekhyun should have known that this was in his nature. Still, he found it bracing, he found it harsh and he found it incredibly helpful and though his last words rang soundly in his head, Baekhyun thought better than to mention it.  
  
“You think that would work?  
  
“It can’t hurt to try.”  
  
“You really are poetic, aren’t you?”  
  
“Tell me something I don’t know.”  
  
Looking at his smile Baekhyun had a great sense of deja vu, this was a conversation they had had before but back then he had made the mistake of taking Chanyeol’s intelligence for granted. Taking his advice would be the best chance he’d have for fixing a mess that no one deserved. He didn’t know why but his appreciation for Chanyeol suddenly swelled tenfold.  
  
“Would you still like me if I told you that TikTok is better than Vine?” Baekhyun asked and he watched Chanyeol pull a face of disgust.

“I mean...I might like you considerably _less_.”

“I gotta convert you.”

“That’s really not necessary. You’re just embarrassing yourself.”

Baekhyun whipped and Chanyeol shoved him so hard that he fell right out of his chair and Baekhyun was laughing and Chanyeol was red in the face looking like he was trying very hard not to laugh as well.  
  
_Oh my god_ . Baekhyun thought. _I should kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him._

“Fam,” he said. “Can I hug you?”

That same progression of physiognomy: bafflement, realisation and then the smile. “C’mere, _you cheeky bastard_.” He said, holding out his arms.

“I don’t talk like that, you prick,” Baekhyun refuted as he shuffled closer and leaned into him, his head on his chest, no longer feeling as cold as he did before when Chanyeol wrapped his arms around him. It surprised him a little, that Chanyeol didn’t treat it as a ‘lad pat’ where you would pat them twice (no more and no less) on the back in solidarity and then pull away. Instead, he held on tight (but not too tight), as if he was as much of a source of heat as Chanyeol was to him.

Baekhyun found himself relishing the attention, almost slipping right of his chair in order to press closer, inhaling Chanyeol’s scent which miraculously didn’t hold any trace of cheap cologne or drugs; Chanyeol seemed more pleasant and real, a trace of strawberry shampoo and spice. 

  
At this point, they had been holding onto each other for far too long to be considered the usual ‘man hug’. This was intimacy at its finest. This was a comfort that far surpassed Chanyeol’s guitar. Baekhyun’s face still felt stiff from all of the dried tears but he had never felt warmer. Then, he almost didn’t notice at first, Chanyeol’s hand began to rub circles into his back, pressing into the dip between his shoulder blades in an attempt to relieve the tension in his muscles. Baekhyun didn’t mind; it felt nice to be cared for and he almost melted like butter.

His hand pressed a little harder until it reached one particular spot, pressing and kneading into it with his thumb. Baekhyun, in his dazed out stupor, let out a contented moan which transpired into a strangled squeak of horror when he caught himself. He jerked himself out of Chanyeol’s hold, rocking back in his chair with such force that it would have toppled over if he didn’t grab the desk in time. 

  
“Piss shit!” _Jesus Christ fuck what the f u c k._

Chanyeol looked equally alarmed but with a trace of derisive humour and he was saying something that Baekhyun couldn’t quite comprehend as his mind stuttered over what he had just done.

“I-uhhh have...back...problems. Scoliosis,” He fumbled out and Chanyeol genuinely looked concerned now. “My...school bag is made of concrete.”

  
Before he could worsen the situation his phone pinged...and then pinged again and again until it couldn’t be ignored. “I should get this, lemme just-”

Baekhyun felt like an absolute moron and he was sure his face was as red as it was burning, but any embarrassment he felt before, disappeared the moment he read the text.  
  
Suhoe: Get down to the music room now.  
Suhoe: Now.  
Suhoe: Now.  
Suhoe: I have good news I think. Idk but I think you’ll like it.

“Sounds important,” Chanyeol said as Baekhyun began to sweep all of his study books back into his school bag. “You’re smiling. Why are you smiling?”  
  
“Because I’m proper gassed, mate,” Baekhyun said and he looked up at Chanyeol with a grin that contrasted his puffy eyes. “If this is what I think it is then I’m gonna...I don’t know I’ll actually fuck a lunchbox.”  
  
Chanyeol stared at him and Baekhyun promised that he had been joking. Or at least somewhat.  
  
“Want me to wait for you?”  
  
“Sure. I’ll be back soon, I’ll run bare fast.”

 

\---

 

“You’re late.”  
  
“Calm your tits, mate. I proper ran.”  
  
“What’s this about, Junmyeon?” Jongdae murmured and Junmyeon seemed to falter at the use of his full name, Baekhyun wasn’t really used to it either. “Why are _they_ here?”

He gestured to the dance group who were huddled together on the far side of the room and Yoongi stuck out his tongue; Jongdae hit the inside of his elbow and threw up his middle finger.  
  
“I’ve been speaking to Namjoon for the past week,” Junmyeon began and he tugged idly at his sleeves, turning them inside out at the cuffs and then turning them back to normal. “We’ve come up with a plan that might suit all of us which is that we uh… we both perform at the venue on the same day. A collaboration, if you will.”  
  
There was a halting moment of silence as the band processed his proposition. They looked at Junmyeon and then they looked at Namjoon and then they looked at the dancers, all of which seemed completely serious.  
  
“ _Oh my days_ . You’re gunning us, mate,” said Kyungsoo. “ _Again_ .”  
  
“Hear us out,” Namjoon interrupted, stepping forward. “The venue is small but we’ll be able to fit. The band uses the stage and we’ll clear an area of the floor so we can do our choreography-”  
  
“What about the audience?” Minseok interrupted. “Sure, we can all fit but the crowds won’t. Combining BTS and EXO will double the people who attend and decrease the amount of space.”  
  
“Sick maffs, fam,” whispered Jungkook.  
  
“You’re right, but it just means that we’ll have to filter in the number of people who attend. That’s a sacrifice that we” - Namjoon gestured to his dance group- “are willing to make. It’s up to you.”  
  
“Another thing is that if we perform together then we’ll have to work together too. That means we, as a band, will learn the pieces that BTS are dancing to and in return, they’ll choreograph some new dances to go with our songs. It’s synergy.”  
  
Kyungsoo and Jongin glanced at each other as the rest of them gazed on in stunned silence, unable to decipher whether this was an amazing idea or an absolute trash one. “That means we’ll have less than two weeks to learn everything on top of revision,” Kyungsoo said apprehensively. “I don’t know if I can.”  
  
“Not to mention we’d have to completely change all of our advertising shit. Sounds like it’s just a bit too short notice, fam.” Jongin cut in.

“It won’t be,” Junmyeon replied firmly. “If we work hard at it as we have for the past few months then, of course, we can do it! But we have to decide now.”

“Plus we have Callie.” Jimin pointed out and there was a mixed response of agreement and horror. Callie had always been a last resort in case their shows never went according to plan and word needed to get out fast, only now did they realise that this _was_ the last resort.

Baekhyun didn’t quite know what to say, he looked to the dancers; Hoseok was smiling as always, Yoongi’s expression was unreadable, Jungkook offered him an encouraging grin, Seokjin didn’t seem to have eyes for anyone other than Namjoon, Jimin was just sitting on one of the speakers looking pretty and Taehyung-  
  
Baekhyun felt a breath stutter in his throat. _A week_ . It had been a week since he had spoken to Taehyung and he didn’t even know why. Looking at him now he looked just as guilty as he felt.

“Are you all okay with this?” Baekhyun asked the group and they all nodded.  
  
“I know we had a bit of beef between us,” said Taehyung. “But this could be fun. This could be the performance that we all wanted. It’s better than nothing.”  
  
“I hate to say it,” said Kyungsoo, a little hesitatingly. “But the mad lad might be right. I’ve been bare lonely this past week at lunchtimes and it’s beginning to piss me off. I’d rather not leave this dump without a proper send-off from you arseholes, thanks very much.”

The group laughed, _just a little_ and the atmosphere in the room began to lift _just a little_ . Suddenly, fueled by Kyungsoo’s jab at humour, the others began to look less dubious. Especially Yixing, who stepped forward and caught Junmyeon by his elbow, he said something that Baekhyun couldn’t quite hear but judging by the way Junmyeon beamed at him he could take a pretty good guess.  
  
“Oh fuck it.” Minseok groaned, “it would have been petty for me to say no anyway. I’ll join in the shitshow.”

“I will too!” Baekhyun said suddenly and he slung his arm around Minseok’s shoulders. “If you need shitty vocalists then you’ll need more than just one.”

Minseok swore at him but without malice and soon enough, everyone was smiling. Jongdae rolled his eyes and pulled Junmyeon into a hug that he happily returned. 

“C’mere, wasteman, you’re so lucky I like you.”  
  
“I was shit scared that you didn’t, you tosser.”

Yixing laughed over their squabbling and joined the hug, as did Minseok and Jongin and Kyungsoo and, of course, Baekhyun. They all huddled close together in a messy heap of entangled limbs and laughter. They had almost forgotten about the rest of the people in the room, apart from Baekhyun. He broke away from his group and Taehyung must have seen him coming because he pushed off the wall with his arms open, fully intending to meet him halfway.

Baekhyun squeezed the back of Taehyung’s neck affectionately. “Oof, you’ve been building up muscles.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Baek. It’s been a week.”  
  
“Too long, fam. Too long.”  
  
“Baek…”  
  
“Yeah, bruv?”  
  
“I wanna play Spiderman again, fam.”  
  
Baekhyun groaned and pinched his neck before letting go, catching Jungkook’s eye as he did so. “Aw Kookie! Don’t get jealous! C’mere!”  
  
Jungkook uttered a quiet ‘fuck’ under his breath and barrelled over the studio equipment,(much to Junmyeon’s horror) only to be swept up in Baekhyun’s arms along with Jimin and Hoseok who both delighted in the playful banter. When Baekhyun made his way over to Yoongi, the dancer pressed himself against the wall.  
  
“If you try to hug me I swear to God I’ll make you fuck a lunchbox.”  
  
Baekhyun said something about ‘bizarre coincidences’ and squashed him into an embrace anyway. He had missed everyone and he wouldn’t deny that having them back as friends was great, but there was someone else waiting for him and Baekhyun had promised to be quick.  
  
“I’ve gotta run for now.” He said, scooping up his concrete bag, “I promise to be here tomorrow, see you later, mandem!”  
  
He rounded the first corner of the corridor and smacked straight into a solid chest and with a single whiff of strawberry shampoo and spice, he knew who it was and it seemed like they had realised too because he felt strong arms curl around him and his concrete bag. He could hear Chanyeol’s laughter ringing in his ears but it sounded so distant because he was so happy and giddy that he thought he might vomit there and then.  
  
He had five seconds to do something utterly stupid before the feeling wore off and he could no longer blame it on being ‘spontaneous’. He had five seconds to do it. Now or never.  
  
Baekhyun raised himself up onto his toes and kissed the corner of Chanyeol’s mouth; he was very strategic about it, he made sure it was only a peck so that he could pretend he accidentally bumped into him when he jumped and he made sure it was a little to the left so that Chanyeol wouldn’t have a right to freak out, he made sure it was short enough to not be called a kiss. Then he grinned up at him, watching for the change of expressions but Chanyeol seemed perpetually stuck in the phase of bewilderment.

Baekhyun bit down on the inside of his cheek, already feeling the consequences rear up like a tidal wave but he had thought this part through as well (He had put a surprising amount of consideration into something that was meant to be spontaneous). He’d play it off as naturally as he could.

“What’s gwarnin?” Baekhyun said and slowly, Chanyeol’s face seemed to melt into something more familiar. “My band got together again. The show’s still on.”

  
“Really?” Chanyeol croaked out and then he flushed red and cleared his throat hastily before speaking again. “That’s great!... But Baek, was that supposed to be a-”  
  
“I wanna celebrate, man!” Baekhyun interrupted quickly because his moment of high had worn off and he didn’t want to deal with the consequences. “Let’s pop down the chippy. There’s nothing better than soggy chips on a Thursday.”

There was a deep sense of regret and guilt simmering in his stomach now and he wished he hadn’t done it. He fucking wished he hadn’t pulled that stunt because Chanyeol’s initial expression was now engraved in his mind and that face of palpable shock and confusion would be dredged up every time he would think about it in the future. He shouldn’t have caught him off-guard like that, shouldn’t have toyed with him like that. Baekhyun tried to tell himself over and over that it wasn’t a kiss. _Not a kiss. Not a kiss_. He repeated it like a mantra because he didn’t want to cringe when he saw Chanyeol, he didn’t want to look at him and see that face because if he ever did kiss Chanyeol then it would have to be nothing short of perfect.

Chanyeol looked reluctant to let the topic go but his stomach growled at the mention of food and Baekhyun was looking at him in a way that wouldn’t let him say ‘no’ without looking like an absolute dick. “Will you pay?”

Baekhyun looked relieved but equally distracted by something that Chanyeol could never guess.“Course not, you helmet. Who do you think I am?”

“Yeah, I thought as much.”

It was a short walk to the local chip shop but the line was ridiculously long, mostly consisting of weary and hungry students and tired commuters who had returned from London. Neither of them were exactly chuffed to queue for thirty minutes just to get soggy chips so Baekhyun opted to go to Greggs instead.

The shop was closing up in fifteen minutes and by the time they reached the bus stop the cheeky bastard had already pulled away. Determined to not let this venture be for nothing, they hoisted their bags over their shoulders, tied their laces and bolted as fast as they could for two blocks, making it with only four minutes to spare.

“Please...Pasty.” Baekhyun wheezed before collapsing to his hands and knees on the tiled floor, much to the horror of the staff who mistook his laboured breaths for an asthma attack of some sort. Thankfully, Chanyeol who was ever so polite and charming managed to calm them down and he even made them laugh as he retold them of the hassle they went through. 

  
The staff handed them a pasty each and a bottle of water and Chanyeol paid at a discounted price. Baekhyun sat on one of the high stools with his head buried in his arms, still struggling for breath even though Chanyeol had completely recovered.  
  
“C’mon, Baek. We can’t stay here.”  
  
“I can’t...my bag...too heavy.”  
  
“I’ll carry it for you.”  
  
“Ngh...my legs.”  
  
“Want me to carry you too?”  
  
Baekhyun looked up at that, searching his face for any irony or jokes; to be fair, Chanyeol was smiling but his eyes were earnest.  
  
“You’d do that for me, fam?”  
  
Chanyeol shrugged and bent down to pick up Baekhyun’s bag, he slung it over one of his shoulders without so much as a wince and then began to offer his back but Baekhyun turned red, casting an embarrassed look over to the staff, who honestly looked so done that they probably wouldn’t have cared even if someone broke in and shoplifted the last remaining doughnuts from right in front of them. Nonetheless, Baekhyun shook his head and asked if Chanyeol could wait until they got outside.

“This is the only Greggs for miles, I wanna be able to come back in here without...y’know...feeling like an absolute nonce.”  
  
“I’m sure they wouldn’t judge, Baek,” Chanyeol replied reassuringly but he waited for Baekhyun to hobble outside before he knelt down to the ground and let him climb onto his back where he made himself quite comfortable. Chanyeol hooked his arms under Baekhyun’s thighs and Baekhyun draped his arms around his neck, his head resting on the crook of his shoulder.  
  
“How are you this strong, Chanyeollie? You could literally bench press me without breaking a sweat.”

“I’m actually struggling a little-”  
  
“Oi, did you just call me fat?”  
  
“No, not you. Your bag- what do you _have_ in here? Gimme a sec.”  
  
They made a short pit stop by bus stop which was meagerly lit by a puddle of light from a single lamp post. Baekhyun sat on the bench, munching away on Chanyeol’s pasty in contentment as Chanyeol emptied out his school bag.  
  
“Baekhyun, you have two whole Pringles cans in here.”  
  
“Is there anything inside?”  
  
“...Uh...there’s an Adele poster and...a kinder egg toy.”  
  
“Oh yeah, I tried to make a time capsule in year 9. Chuck ‘em.”

“What about this? You have an entire wardrobe in here and- is this a toothbrush?”

Baekhyun shifted a little at that,  his cheeks colouring with discomfort.  “Yeahh, it's just in case I need to crash at someone else’s place, y’know?”

Chanyeol gave him a strange look that was hard to decipher in the dim light. “Why would you need to do that?”

“Spontaneous sleepovers.” _Because on Fridays my dad drinks too much._

If Chanyeol was suspicious,  he did a good job of hiding it.  
  
This continued for the better part of an hour; Chanyeol pulling out miscellaneous items from the seemingly bottomless bag, commenting on them and then Baekhyun saying ‘chuck it’. By the end of the intervention, Baekhyun’s bag was practically empty save for a revision guide or two and a couple of pens; Baekhyun tried it on and was genuinely stunned at how light it was.  
  
“Jesus,” he said, climbing onto the bin experimentally. “I feel like I’m carrying air! I can move so much easier!” And as if to prove a point he gripped the edge of the bus shelter and kicked his way onto the roof. The moon above him glowed brightly like a spotlight and he began to sing delightedly to ‘Take on me’, not caring if his voice cracked around the high notes or if his breathing technique was wrong. All that mattered was that Chanyeol was looking at him in a way that made him feel like the most amazing person on Earth.

“I really hope you become a singer,” Chanyeol said after he had finished. “You’re not made to be anything else.”

  
“Hmm, if I can convince my dad then maybe…”  
  
“Maybe you should have a proper sit-down with them, make them see sense.”  
  
“Mate,” Baekhyun laughed.” Even I don’t know what the fuck ‘sense’ is.”  
  
“You have a better idea of it than anyone else in this dump.”  
  
There was a short silence between them and Chanyeol blushed under Baekhyun’s stare, his ears turning bright red in an endearing fashion.  
  
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I’ve no right to call this place a dump, I forgot that you’ve lived here for a long time.”  
  
“So? Living here for longer just means that I’ve had more time to let my spite fester. This place _is_ a dump, but that’s not what I was surprised about,” Baekhyun sat down at the edge of the bus shelter and let his legs dangle and although he could have very easily kicked Chanyeol in the face, the latter showed no signs of moving. “Do you really think I should talk to them?”  
  
“They’re your parents, Baek. But I’d think that doing so would lead you one step closer.”

Baekhyun contemplated that for a little while. A bus came and left, Chanyeol remained standing, his gaze was unfaltering. “Y’know...maybe I will.”

Chanyeol nodded proudly. “Good. Now get down. It looks like it’s going to rain.”  
  
“Oh piss, you’re right.”

Baekhyun lowered himself back onto the bin and jumped down, stumbling a little only for Chanyeol to steady him with a hand on his back. Baekhyun eyed him carefully and Chanyeol dropped his hand back down to his side looking slightly chagrined, but that wasn’t what Baekhyun wanted. He’d much rather Chanyeol press his thumbs into his back and make him wince than have him back away the way he was doing now. _Now’s not the time to act shy._

“You good, Baek? I can run you back to your house if you want, I’d rather you didn’t get soaked.”

Baekhyun was tempted to say yes but the rain was beginning come down hard and he _knew_ that Chanyeol lived in the opposite direction because Yixing had told him. So he shook his head and reached up to affectionately punch Chanyeol’s shoulder.

“I’m safe, fam. Don’t worry ‘bout me. I’ll see you around tomorrow.”

As Baekhyun held his school bag over his head and stole out from under the bus shelter and into the rain, he thought he could feel Chanyeol watching him, but when he turned around to catch a glimpse of him, maybe even wave to say ‘ _no hard feelings’_ , he was already out of sight.

  
\----

“I’m so fucking pissed that sex-ed is this boring. I heard that Ritchie’s class were putting condoms on dildos but did we ever get to do that? Fucking nope.”

“I know! It’s been the third time the old hag’s made us watch the ‘Tea and consent’ video. I literally know it off by heart: ‘ _If you’re still struggling with consent, just imagine that you’re making them a cup of tea instead’.”_ _  
_ _  
_ “Taehyung and Jungkook, can either of you repeat what I just said?”  
  
“Uh…” Jungkook glanced at the board, his eyes focusing on the first word he saw. “Pregnancy…?  
  
“ _Teenage_ Pregnancy, Jungkook,” Mrs Cole said sternly. “Can you tell me what you’re supposed to do in that situation?”  
  
Jungkook shared a look with Taehyung before turning back to Mrs Cole with a quizzical expression. “You mean...if _I’m_ pregnant or...?”

“No, Jungkook. _A girl_ ,” she snaps impatiently and the rest of the class sniggers, already guessing ahead as to where the conversation was going. “What would happen if you got a _girl_ pregnant?”

“Oi Miss, that’s just a bit dodge!” Jimin piped up. “What you sayin’ about Kookie?”  
  
“I’m not accusing him of anything, this is purely hypothetical.”

Jimin furrowed his eyebrows and pulled a face before leaning across the table and whispering ‘what does hippo-ethical mean?’.  
  
Jungkook, on the other hand, suddenly sat up in his chair looking chuffed with himself. “Well, in that case, Miss. I have a method where no girl would ever get pregnant.”  
  
“And pray tell, Jungkook. What is it?”

“Homosexuality!” He and Taehyung echoed together simultaneously, clasping each other's hands and the class cackled as Mrs Cole sighed audibly into her hand. The whole class watched her with hyena-like grins as if to say: ‘ _Go on, Miss. Give ‘em detention and we’ll all call you homophobic and report you. Go on.’_

Instead, Mrs Cole seemed gracious enough to let the issue ago and she changed the slides, moving swiftly onto the next topic. “Here are the helplines that you can call. I trust you’ve all heard of ‘Childline’?”

  
Jimin perked up again much to her dismay. “Oi Miss! I know a cheeky lil’ jingle for that!” He cleared his throat dramatically before singing to a botched tune. “ _If your mum gets angry and smacks your bum, call oh-eight-hundred-double-one-double one.”_

Mrs Cole, the poor woman, was going to retire next month anyway; all she had to do was grab her paycheck and do a runner to Barbados. She didn’t have to teach these kids so she let them out early so long as they promised not to mention anything to the headteacher of her half-arsed teaching methods.

Courtesy of the mischievous trio, the class practically skipped out of the class twenty minutes early and since it was a Friday, everyone was already making plans for their weekend, but there was evidently no rest for the wicked; Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung made their way towards the dance studio where they found Yoongi and Kyungsoo sizing up each other’s trainers, both of which looked identical save for a single black stripe on Yoongi’s.

  
“Why are you lads so early out?” Taehyung asked as he dumped his bag in the corner and started getting changed into his dance gear.  
  
“I was bunking off my lesson and I just found Kyungsoo in here, hunched over the speakers like a fucking gremlin playing Big Shaq through the speakers.”  
  
“There was a lesson going on in the music rooms,” Kyungsoo grouched. “I had a free period anyway.”  
  
“I swear you had French, you dolt.” Yoongi interrupted and Kyungsoo shrugged idly.  
  
“French is bare simple, fam. _Je me douche avec moi poisson rouge tous les jours._ ”  
  
“Wow, we stan a bilingual king.”

“Jimin, you’re Korean.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot.”

Before Yoongi could even _begin_ to start roasting the shit out of him, Namjoon burst through the door, closely followed by Hoseok, who moonwalked over, did an elegant pirouette and then flopped back into Yoongi’s waiting arms. 

“Sup fuckers!” He trilled. “If old man Jin don’t turn up in five seconds I’m gonna snog Suga.”  
  
Punctual as ever, Jin walked in even before Hoseok finished speaking.“Who’s snogging who? What’s the tea?”

Hoseok spun out of Yoongi’s arms and flung himself into a vicious dab so close to Seokjin’s face that he nearly smacked him, smiling all the while in an incredibly farce way. “Well, Jin, my lad. If you had walked in five seconds later then I would have cartwheeled straight onto Suga’s dick. So you’re a cockblock and that, my jolly chap, is the tea.”

“Well did Yoongi agree to it?” Seokjin asked with an elegant arch of the eyebrow. “Cos we just had an hour long lesson where we learnt about consent and how to put condoms on dildos-”

  
“Okay!” Namjoon said loudly, patting Seokjin nervously on the back. “Let’s...let’s just- we have a lot to work on. Junmyeon sent me the recordings of their songs and Yixing is meeting with The Coven to transcribe ours. This show should be good but...we’re gonna need Callie.”

“Oooooh,” murmured Hoseok and he rose to _en pointe_ and shuffled back until his back met with the mirror and he pressed himself against it as if he could blend with it (he couldn’t). “Noooo.”

  
“Okay, so yeah she’s scary as fuck but we can trust her to take care of all the finer details that we don’t have time to do. She’s reliable-”  
  
“-and a right cow,” Yoongi grouched. “She smells of shoe polish and muscles.”  
  
“Innit,” agreed Kyungsoo.

“-and she’ll take care of everything for the right price.” Namjoon finished, shooting the others a scalding glare.

“Did you mean: ‘the souls of young schoolboys?”

“Luckily for me, I don’t have one.”

“She’ll crush your nuts then, Jimin.”  
  
“ _Anyway_ ,” interrupted Namjoon, brusquely. “We’re gonna have to send two of our bravest soldiers...”

Everyone in the room turned to face Kyungsoo and Yoongi, both of which had been trying to recreate a two-person version of _Bulldog_. Yoongi had tackled Kyungsoo to the floor but Kyungsoo must have seen Namjoon nervously wringing his hands together and he narrowed his eyes.

“Fuck off, mate, ” he said but Namjoon only beamed and clapped his hands together. “No. No, you can’t-no, I’m not even meant to be here. Yoongi, mate, tell him.”

Yoongi jerked his head to flip his hair out of his eyes whilst he sat comfortably on Kyungsoo’s spine. “Yeah man, he just wanted to listen to Big Shaq, y’know?”

“Yeah, man,” Kyungsoo repeated, his voice slightly muffled as he pressed his cheek against the cold floor. “I gotta study for ‘An inspector calls’.”

Jimin scoffed dismissively. “What’s there to study? It’s just a dysfunctional family who accidentally drive a girl to suicide with their asshole tendencies, then a detective pops up and there you go. Bob’s your uncle.”

  
“Have you even read the play, Bitchboy?”  
  
“Nah, but I watched like half of the BBC adaptation. Eric, my guy” - Jimin winked and made an ‘okay’ sign with his fingers - “peng as _fuck_.”

“Oh yeah!” Hoseok said suddenly, snapping his fingers in dawning realisation. “The Arthur Birling in the movie was the same guy who acted for that one dwarf in the Hobbit- what’s his name-”

  
“Boffins?” Offered Jungkook.  
  
“No-”  
  
“Dwaaaa….Dwalin?” suggested Kyungsoo from his place on the floor.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Ah! Legolas!”  
  
“Shut up, Jin. Just cos you want to shag Orlando Bloom.”

“Who the fuck doesn’t, Yoongi?”

Jungkook, who had been tuning everything out with his eyes screwed shut and his brow furrowed in concentration, suddenly perked up and clapped his hands.

“It’s Balin!” He cried.

“That’s the fucker!” said Hoseok and he slapped Jungkook on the ass.

“Min Yoongi.” Namjoon interrupted his gaze finding him through the somewhat chaotic room, watching him as he sat comfortably on Kyungsoo’s spine. His voice surprisingly quiet and placid, he even had a tight-lipped smile. “Might I remind you of your fucking job?”

Yoongi squirmed under his controlled gaze, squinting his eyes. Namjoon smiled at them. Yoongi squinted harder. Namjoon’s dimples were blinding. Kyungsoo was beginning to sweat. Namjoon smiled. Yoongi squinted. Kyungsoo sweated. Namjoon smile-

“Oh for god’s sake- fine!” Yoongi snapped. “Come on, Kyung.”

Kyungsoo groaned and dropped his head against the floor in defeat. The sight of Yoongi dragging Kyungsoo’s lifeless body across the linoleum floor looked like a snapshot of a renaissance painting. There was certainly something decidedly atavistic about the way Kyungsoo clung onto the door frame in a last attempt to fend off Yoongi, only to be hauled around the corner and out of sight.  
  
Hoseok saluted them until Kyungsoo’s wails could no longer be heard but judging by the laughter in the hallway, the rest of the late-night students had found them too. He wondered if any amount of reputation Kyungsoo had built was to be obliterated now.  
  
“They’ll be fine,” Seokjin reassured, stretching his arms above his head. “They have the biggest balls out of all of us.”

\---  
  
“Yoongi, mate. Can I hold your hand? I think I might piss myself.”  
  
“Then you’re a fucking pussy, bruv” - there was a brief moment of silence before Yoongi pulled a face - “Jesus, why are your hands so sweaty?”  
  
“That must be you, mate.”

Yoongi pinched Kyungsoo’s wrist and his shout of pain echoed down the hall. Callie of Computing, daughter of a Scottish bodybuilder, always stayed in room G23 which was one of the IT rooms in the basement of the school building. She'd been somewhat of an issue ever since primary school where she'd taken a turn for the worst and began to terrorize men of all ages.  It was a bit like Medusa's affair; she loved girls but would take no shit from the other sex. Even now, as the two of them edged forwards, the halls seemed darker than the ones above and it was deathly cold. The lights flickered ominously above their heads, sending skittering shadows along the walls. The entire basement was silent as a grave and there was an overwhelming stench of shoe polish.  
  
At the far end of the corridor, the door was slightly open and a dim light filtered through. Yoongi knew Callie was inside and he waited for Kyungsoo’s nod of approval before he pushed the door open.  
  
“Oi oi, Callie. You’re looking...great...today.”

“Well if it ain’t the two famous wee buggers of the school.”  
  
The two of them cringed in horror: Callie was in a bad (murderous) mood. The cheap swivel chair swung round, creaking under the weight of a beefy-looking girl with arms like tree trunks crossed over her chest. Her school blazer, torn in several places, had its sleeves rolled up to her elbows, exposing taut muscles and thick veins. Her eyes were small and set into her face like raisins in a mixture of fleshy dough.  
  
“The fuck do you want, yah nastay wee midgets?”  
  
Her accent was almost indiscernible and Kyungsoo’s expression was stuck halfway through confusion, fear and a very fake smile. “You know there’s been a change of plans, don’t you, Callie?”  
  
“Yeh mean all the shite that’s been pissin’ round Twi’er?”  
  
“Yes…”  
  
Callie burped loudly and then scratched her neck. “An’ you wee basterds want me teh fix e’rything?”  
  
“...Yes.”  
  
Callie narrowed her beady eyes and behind the folds of their blazers, Yoongi felt Kyungsoo’s fingers squeeze his hand in terror.  
  
“An’ what...will yeh be payin’ me?”  
  
“...We can get you caramel waffles from Lidl.”  
  
Callie let out a monstrous roar and leapt from her chair; for someone her size, she was remarkably agile. She snatched the stapler from her desk and grabbed Yoongi by the lapels of his blazer, pulling him close until her nose if it hadn’t been pressed flat into her face like a flat clay sculpture, would have been touching his.  
  
She held the stapler up so that he could see it in his peripherals and proceeded to speak in a way that sounded much more like a growl. “Listen here, yeh lil’ twink. You better start giving me something good or I swear on my mum I’ll rapid fire these staples so far up yer arse you’ll have silver fillings in yer teeth.”  
  
Yoongi strangled a cry of horror and Kyungsoo begged her not to kill him, screaming that he’d give her a tenner in exchange for Yoongi.  
  
“A tenner?!” Callie snarled. “I wannae get chundered this weekend, not buy a packet o’ Freddies! Thirty quid! From both of yeh!”  
  
Kyungsoo hesitated and Yoongi swore at him although his eyes never left Callie’s, for fear that she’d bite his nose off without him noticing. “My inside pocket, Kyung. Give her the fucking money.”  
  
Kyungsoo lurched forward, rifling through Yoongi’s pockets as if his life depended on it: an empty gum wrapper, an out-of-date Tesco's coupon, a receipt from JD...and a huge wad of cash. Kyungsoo’s hands trembled as he tried to count out the money and combine it with his own but Callie was getting impatient and she let out a low growl that made Yoongi whimper.  
  
“Give it all, bruv.” Yoongi pleaded and Kyungsoo shoved the paper notes at Callie. She leaned over and sniffed them, as if she could tell immediately if they were real or fake, her breath breezed over the bank notes, making the paper flutter in his hands. Then, with the speed of a viper, she snatched the money with her teeth and dropped Yoongi onto the floor. The way she snarled over the bank notes was very theatrical and Yoongi wondered if her mother had been a predatory animal.

“Til next time, little man. Now get teh fuck outta me sight.”  
  
Neither of them needed to be told twice. Yoongi scrambled to his feet and they hightailed it down the hallway, Callie’s malicious laughter booming down after them.

“Yoongi!”  
  
He must have stumbled at one point because the next thing he knew, Kyungsoo was calling his name and suddenly he was colliding with another student; or more specifically, that one year eleven twunk that Baekhyun was thirsting over.  
  
“Woah, woah-”  
  
“Who are you trying to be? Noah Centineo? Shut up the fuck.”

Chanyeol, the poor guy, genuinely looked baffled and he glanced at Kyungsoo for help who again had a strange expression, this time looking stuck between laughter and sympathy, the mixture of the two emotions ended up making him look more like a conflicted Martin Freeman who had just tried a teaspoon of bean paste and decided that he didn’t like it. Yoongi was more worried about his heart giving out rather than the order of his words and he reached out to grab onto Kyungsoo’s shoulder.  
  
“Wait, Kyung...I think I’m having a stroke.”

“Oh, shit where?!” Yoongi vaguely felt hands tilting his face up but he didn’t know where to look because he genuinely thought he was going to die; his legs felt weak and his grip on Kyungsoo’s arm was trembling. He could hear Chanyeol timidly explaining to a frantic Kyungsoo that a stroke wasn’t a matter of ‘where’ but the latter obviously wasn’t listening.

“Kyung...I don’t feel so good…”  
  
Kyungsoo, as if things couldn’t get more dramatic, kept on saying ‘stay with me, mate’ and ‘if you pass out I’ll have to kiss you and we both know that no one wants that’ and ‘I can’t believe you’re quoting Spiderman in your hour of need’.  
  
Yoongi reached up and gripped the back of Kyungsoo’s neck, forcing him to look him in the eye. He opened his mouth, then shut it and then mumbled: “I’m going to faint.” and true to his word, he did.

 

\----

 

@weareone · 15m

So I just saw @Chan_yeol carrying Yoongi bridal style down the hall with an _actual_ crying Kyungsoo and I’m baffled.

 

@Chan_yeol · 5m

@weareone They’re both ok dw, Yoongi just nearly got his butt stapled shut no biggie.

@lulu_lucay · 50s

Tf goes on in dance practice??? idk...if ur joking or…? @Namjoon_BTS

 

@armyarmiee · 30s

Look after ur kids Namjoooon

 

\---

 

Chanyeol had become something of a hero after that. After carrying an unconscious Yoongi all the way back to the dance studio, Hoseok only had to take one look at the sobbing Kyungsoo to assume the worse and although he was joyful by nature, he was all ready to start crying over Yoongi’s body as well.

Kyungsoo wasn’t exactly helping either, as he was insistent that Yoongi had had a stroke, despite not quite knowing what it was. Hoseok didn’t really understand either, his knowledge only stretching as far as the fact that it involved paralysis; that alone was enough to send him over the edge.  
  
“What if he can never dance again?” Hoseok sobbed and he draped himself despairingly over Yoongi’s chest.

“He’s completely okay,” Chanyeol said in a tired tone that suggested that he’d been trying to explain the same thing to a hysterical Kyungsoo on their way here. “It’s definitely _not_ a stroke. He’ll wake up soon.”

“If he doesn’t wake up in five seconds,” Hoseok began. “I’m going to kiss him.”  
  
“That’s...not right...” Seokjin said wearily, but he didn’t bother reprimanding him any further.  
  
They all gathered round Yoongi and waited anxiously for him to wake up; Hoseok, who was also in Ritchie’s class for sex ed, agreed that it would be better for him to wait for Yoongi to wake up and then kiss him.

Depressingly, when Yoongi finally did wake up (which was about two minutes later) his first acknowledgement wasn’t, in fact, the poor Hoseok who had been waiting impatiently for him but an almighty song. He blinked his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling with a glassy gaze and said in a soft voice: ‘Zendaya is Meechee’.

Everyone else had been overjoyed to find out that their friend had come to with little to no consequences other than the mental scarring of Callie’s encounter. Namjoon had promised to pay back Yoongi’s lost drug money and upon questioning, Kyungsoo had said that he hadn’t cried at all even though Yoongi knew better.  
  
“Y’know, D.O, deep down I know you’re just a soft-hearted little wanker. I’m gonna post it on Twitter.”  
  
“Already done,” said Chanyeol. “Ritchie tweeted about it when you were still out.”  
  
“Dang.”  
  
“Tell me it was worth it though,” said Kyungsoo. “Tell me Yoongi didn’t nearly get his ass stapled for nothing. Has Callie-”  
  
Taehyung passed Kyungsoo his phone and he scrolled through the Twitter feed. There was no doubt that Callie was all-around terrifying but she definitely did her job well; her father may have been a bodybuilder but her mum was an incredibly intelligent woman who worked in computing (though there was speculation that she belonged to a Serbian mafia), therefore giving Callie all the knowledge of computers she needed to become an efficient hacker. Sure enough, many of the ads on the websites had been changed to promote their new show, ranging from road signs to electric billboards. No one could really tell how she could design adverts so quickly but for the right price, she sure as hell could make them look good.

“Oh shit! Tae looks so peng in this picture, what the fuck. That’s not even _fair._ ”

“Oh yeah, that’s the picture I sent her last year. I paid her top dollar to make my ass look-”

“Tae, this is on a huge billboard on the main road-”  
  
Taehyung felt his phone buzz in his pocket and waved Jimin away. “Wuhey, sorry I gotta get this.”

Taehyung stepped outside of the dance studio and picked up his buzzing phone; Baekhyun’s name flashed on the screen, along with a picture that the two of them had taken in the Hamley’s toy store in Oxford-street. Baekhyun had been holding a lightsaber up against a Lego model of the Queen and Taehyung had been squatting next to him, throwing up a gang sign in front of one of the corgis. It was at that moment that Taehyung had a moment of overwhelming doubt; Jungkook and Baekhyun both had plans to leave the burrow after they graduate, who was to say that the others wouldn’t do the same? What if Taehyung really was going to be left behind in this dodgy area, lingering outside Lakeside whilst his old friends planned trips like this one to London? He’d rarely get to play Spiderman at Baek’s house, rarely get to see Jungkook and probably never practice dancing with his best friends.  
  
Taehyung shuddered, almost forgetting about the call which he managed to answer just before Baekhyun hung up.  
  
“Wagwan,  blud.”

\----

 

Baekhyun couldn’t believe how cold it was.

For a whole of six months, the town had been stuck in a perpetual state of darkness, for the sun, even before setting, was constantly masked by grey clouds and smog.  
  
Dressed in only a threadbare hoodie and torn jeans, Baekhyun was currently racing down the street away from his house, tripping on laces that he hadn’t tied. At first, he didn’t feel the cold, only a burning rage roiling deep in his chest that fueled his limbs to run with such desperation that only left him feeling burnt out afterwards.

It was such a common movie trope for an angsty, heartbroken character to run the streets until they fell and even more common to see them collapse in an empty space and scream their lungs out in their anguish. But Baekhyun didn’t watch movies so he didn’t know or understand cinematography.

He didn’t run until his legs couldn’t move anymore, instead, he stopped halfway down the street to tie his shoelaces and then proceeded to walk. He walked to the quiet park with the broken roundabout and hugged himself as he sat down on the rusted swing, trying to find warmth in his own misery.

Steam rose from his mouth in long drags that glittered under the light of a single streetlight. The swelling rage that flowed within him clashed with the crippling cold of the February night and it reminded him of what he had learnt once in a science lesson; that the sudden change in temperature between hot and cold could even make glass crack, that’s how he felt right now; fragmented and broken.

Baekhyun’s father was by no means neglectful in his parenting but that didn’t mean that he was exactly supportive of his aspirations. Baekhyun would have to practice his singing outside in their shabby garden, amongst the rotting flower beds and garbage bins and should he ever mention the college in London, his father would rebuke every remark with a grim reminder that _he_ was the adult here and that Baekhyun lived under _his_ roof.

He had made a coward of his son.

He didn’t exactly know why but he was sure that Chanyeol had something to do with it; with every tutoring session they had, Baekhyun felt more and more capable, like his dream was really within reach. This confidence was part of what made him talk to his parents, which had been completely delightful until then.

Nothing they said had been particularly unreasonable; it was all stuff like ‘Where will you stay if you school in London? We’re not made of money’ and ‘the music industry is one you shouldn’t even bother with’. But Baekhyun was tired of it and he made this very clear. He slammed his fists down on the table, spat and shouted but his father could always shout louder, spit further and hit much much harder.

He was never one to cry in situations like this, he would always find somewhere to sit and think, for lack of a better word. He’d replay the scene over and over, tasting each emotion as it happened, never letting it simmer down. This, in truth, was worse than crying.

At the moment, he couldn’t think anymore. He couldn’t cope with the bitter cold, he had a metallic taste in his mouth and his cheeks stung with every gust of wind. He couldn’t stay here. How could he? There was so much more in London, he’d be an idiot not to exploit it.

He pushed the swing absently with his heels and instinctively found himself holding his phone, his thumb stroking affectionately over Taehyung’s name in the contacts. He wasn’t sure what he would say but he just wanted attention. He wanted to tell him everything and see what would happen.

_Wagwan, blud._

“Hey, Tae.”  
  
_‘Hey, Tae’_ ? Came the incredulous reply. _Who are you and what did you do to my brother?_ _  
_ _  
_ Baekhyun grinned despite himself. “Pay a ransom and we’ll return him.”  
  
_Nah, mate. I’m broke as shit, but maybe his boyfriend will._

 _“_ Tom Hardy?” 

_No, he’s this old bloke called Chanyeol._

“Ah,” said Baekhyun in mock-understanding. “Is he there with you?”  
  
_Pfft, yeah he’s here. Where are you?_ _  
_ _  
_ “Uh...Raphael’s park.”  
  
_Raphael’s- Shitting hell, what the fuck are you doing there? It’s cold as shit!_

This was the moment. He could either tell Taehyung everything now or let him go and go home. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth just to stop them from chattering because he didn’t know if it was from the cold or because he was suddenly feeling so inexplicably afraid.

He looked around the desolate park, the creaking roundabout, the dirty slide and the rotting climbing frame; it all looked so pitiful that he wanted to cry. Taehyung asked him if he was alright, his voice crackled through the phone and the distortion made it sound high and trembly. Baekhyun dropped his head in defeat and murmured a soft ‘I’m fine.’  
  
Looks like he was too much of a pussy after all.

It was evident that Taehyung didn’t believe his words any more than he did because he kept on speaking down the phone, unrelenting and accusatory in his warranted panic. Baekhyun hunched forward, his shoulders slumping as he leaned his elbows on his thighs and let his hands swing limply between his knees.

“I’m just a little stressed, that’s all, mate. Look I have to go-”  
  
_What? No, don’t hang up on me- please please please don’t-_  
  
“It’s exam season and I’m stressed. Don’t overthink it, bruv. I gotta go.” He repeated and he cast his gaze across the park again, his eyes snagged on a flash of fur under the climbing frame and he perked up a little. Taehyung was still saying something but he raised his phone to his face, his eyes never leaving the climbing frame.  
  
“Sorry, Tae. There’s a cat here and I have to pet it.”  
  
_Are you serious? Wanker-_ _  
  
_“See you tomorrow, fam! Work hard and whatever.”  
  
He cut the call short and closed his eyes briefly as if somehow it could create a barrier and block out the guilt that was coming at him in waves. He could really do without it but he just couldn’t bring himself to confess anything to Taehyung. He didn’t even know why. He had seen this so many times before where characters in TV shows decided to hold their burden alone rather than tell anyone else, even if it meant that things could be fixed easier and yet here he was doing it to himself.

He sat there for a long time, moving the swing with the tips of his toes idly until the cat meowed at him from under the slide, timid in its curiosity. Baekhyun cooed at it, holding out his hand. When the cat didn’t move he fought the urge to snap at it.  
  
“I ended my call for you. The least you could do is let me pet you, you moron.”

The cat prowled out and sniffed the climbing frame, its tail twitched from side to side as if to say, ‘it’s not my fault you’re an emotional wreck’.

“You’re being a prick,” Baekhyun said to the cat. “Seriously. Come here.”

The cat fixed its large, flashing eyes on him and stalked a little closer before stopping by the roundabout.  
  
“What the fuck do you think I’m gonna do? Strangle you?”  
  
The cat sniffed disdainfully at his poor choice of words before finally closing the distance between them. It bumped its nose apprehensively against Baekhyun’s outstretched fingers before nudging its head into his palm. Under the dim lamplight, Baekhyun could see that its fur was matted with blackened mud, but beneath that, he could also see the greyness of a tabby cat but strangely enough, its entire front leg was ginger.

“I’m gonna call you Thanos,” Said Baekhyun, scooping the stray up and holding it in front of his face. Thanos mewled at him in confusion. “You wanna know why? Because you’re an absolute ass-”  
  
“Baek? Who are- _stop screaming_ \- it’s me. Who are you talking to?”

“You scared the _shite_ out of us!” Baekhyun wailed, clutching Thanos closer to his stuttering heart. “What you doing here, Chan?”  
  
Chanyeol took one glance at the dirty tabby cat in Baekhyun’s arms and sighed. He sat down in the swing next to his and the rusted frame creaked alarmingly.  
  
“Taehyung asked me to find you. He said it was an emergency,” he paused for a moment, lifting his head to look at the pale moon that hung in the clear sky. “You good?”  
  
Baekhyun nodded and he unzipped his hoodie so that Thanos could fit inside, then he zipped it back up until only its little head was visible. Thanos bit his chin but at this point, Baekhyun was so cold that everything was numb; Thanos’ bite felt little more than a light pinch.  
  
“You’re shivering,” observed Chanyeol.  
  
“No biggie,” Baekhyun replied. “Can’t be much worse than the odd winter PE lesson, eh?”  
  
Chanyeol didn’t say anything. He didn’t even do that quiet laugh where he breathes out through his nose. He only stood up, shrugged off his jacket and draped it over Baekhyun’s shoulders. He wasn’t gentle about the whole affair either, in fact, he tugged it around him so harshly that Baekhyun was almost jostled off the swing.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Chanyeol said in a low voice that had both Thanos and Baekhyun tensing in surprise and apprehension. “It’s less than four degrees out here and your skin is cold as ice. What were you fucking thinking coming out here in a _hoodie_ ?”  
  
Baekhyun could only gape up at him in shock and when he spoke, his voice was very quiet. “How did you find me? Did Taehyung tell you?”  
  
“As far as I know he didn’t know any better than I did. You just called him, said some weird shit and then hung up. He was almost out of his mind with worry and asked me to find you.”

“I didn’t say anything weird!” Baekhyun rebuked. “Why are you angry with _me_ ?”  
  
“Because you’re a stupid fucking plonker, that’s why!” He snapped and despite the anger in his voice, Baekhyun smiled inwardly. He couldn’t help it that ‘plonker’ was such a bizarre-sounding word. Who the fuck said ‘plonker’ nowadays?  Chanyeol scowled at him and Baekhyun stopped. “It’s not funny.”

“Come on,” Baekhyun teased, dropping his gaze to Thanos who was squirming in the contentment of the newfound warmth. “It’s kinda funny.”  
  
“It’s _not,_ ” Chanyeol repeated with vehemence. The streetlight flickered and his shadow cast over Baekhyun like a blackened shroud, forcing him to look up at his face that was trembling with anticipated rage. “Can’t you be more responsible? What if you catch a cold and lose your voice? You’ll ruin the entire show! The one that literally _everyone_ in the school has been hyped for. Don’t you see, Baek? Not everything is about you. Not anymore.”

Baekhyun was genuinely stunned. Up until that moment he hadn’t thought of how his behaviour might have affected others; he didn’t view it as inherently _bad_ . He just needed to get out of the house if only for a few minutes, just to catch his breath and clear his thoughts. Chanyeol was beginning to shiver too now, his cheeks and ears were flushed pink and mist rose out of his mouth in short puffs.  
  
“Did you...run here?” Baekhyun asked, bewildered but the question only seemed to try Chanyeol’s patience even more. He reached down with one hand and pressed his fingers against Baekhyun’s cheek. Baekhyun, in turn, couldn’t feel his touch but sure as hell could feel the warmth. No matter how cold Chanyeol looked the warmth was always retained and at times like this, when Baekhyun was almost frozen, it would radiate off him in pulses that matched their heartbeats.

“You’re so stupid,” Chanyeol whispered, talking more to himself than Baekhyun. He withdrew his hand when Thanos’ impatient yowl broke them both out of their reverie. “I’m gonna walk you home and you’d better not leave it until school tomorrow.”  
  
He wound his hand around Baekhyun’s bicep and tried to pull him up but Baekhyun didn’t move. Chanyeol frowned and tugged on his arm again but he was completely tense and unmoving, one arm clasped protectively over Thanos who was still squirming underneath his hoodie.  
  
“What are you doing?” Chanyeol hissed, impatiently. “You’re being _childish_.”

“Well, I am at a kiddie park so I think I’m allowed to be.”  
  
“ _Baekhyun,_ ” Chanyeol growled out, his voice low and agitated. “Get up.”  
  
“I’d rather not-”

“What’s the matter with you?!”  
  
“I don’t want to go home!” Baekhyun snapped and Chanyeol jolted back in surprise for it was the first time that Baekhyun had raised his voice against him. “Can’t you take a fucking hint? You think I’m out here freezing my bloody arse off just cos I wanted to take a walk in the park?”

“I didn’t know-” he stuttered. “Baek, I really didn’t know.”  
  
“Oh yeah? Would it hurt to just have asked? ‘Hey, Baek. You don’t look too good are you okay? What happened?’ but no - you just come here and try to yank my bloody arm off. Take your coat back, I ain’t wearing anything that’s not a parka.” He shrugged off the coat with one arm whilst the other was closed protectively around Thanos who was just beginning to doze off.  
  
The cold immediately enveloped him, this time more freezing than it was before. Baekhyun couldn’t stay outside even if he wanted to so he bundled the coat up and shoved it into Chanyeol’s arms. Taking advantage of his momentary surprise, Baekhyun dodged nimbly around him and began jogging down the gravelly path, cradling the cat in his arms.  
  
He didn’t really know what he was going to do with Thanos. His parents probably wouldn’t care too much if he took him home but at the same time, his father had never exactly expressed delight at the idea of a pet; but either way, he didn’t want to leave Thanos alone. Not if he could help it.

“Baek! Baekhyun! Where are you going?”  
  
Baekhyun jogged a little faster, the soles of his trainers were so thin that he could feel the gravel under his feet. It was kinda painful... “I’m going to Tae’s.”  
  
“He’s still at dance practice.”  
  
Baekhyun’s mind stuttered but he was determined to keep ahead. “Um...I’ll just...go to Minseok’s.”  
  
“He lives in the opposite direction.”  
  
Baekhyun growled and turned abruptly; Chanyeol, who evidently wasn’t as agile, nearly crashed into him. Baekhyun stared up at him because he couldn’t quite bring himself to glare. “What’s your problem, mate? Really. I like you but you’re pissing me off tonight.”  
  
“I’m sorry I was a dick,” Chanyeol said, his voice was rushed as if he expected Baekhyun to run away before he could get everything out. “I was worried. Taehyung wasn’t really helping and I was expecting the worst so...when I saw you sitting on the swing petting a cat I just- I don’t know I was so relieved and angry at the same time. But I shouldn’t have been. It was wrong of me.”

“Stop it,” Baekhyun said, not because he didn’t want to hear it but because he felt genuinely uncomfortable. He’d never had to deal with such sincerity before and he didn’t know how to handle it. “Whatever. It’s not like you knew any better.”  
  
“I should have though,” Chanyeol insisted. “Come to my house, Baek. You can stay there as long as you like. Most importantly you’ll….you’ll be safe.”  
  
Funnily enough, a large part of him wanted to defend his family and say that no, he wasn’t in danger and no, he didn’t need to be hidden away from his own parents. But even now his cheek still retained a ghostly remnant of a painful sting and he could only bring himself to nod. He was too tired and frozen to do much else.  
  
Chanyeol lived on the same street as Jongin: the rich area, for lack of a better word. The streets were cleaner and instead of old plastic bags and newspapers littering the pavement, there were large trees in their stead, lining up and down the road like soldiers. There were no leaves on them now but Baekhyun had no doubt that it would have looked great in Autumn; he used to go trick-or-treating with down this road with Taehyung when they were younger because this was the only street with the decency to give out proper Mars bars - none of that fun-size shit. If they were lucky then maybe they could get a hold of a Flump or some Rainbow drops too.

With a wistful pang, Baekhyun found himself reminiscing to distract from the cold. At some point, Chanyeol had given him his coat again but Baekhyun wouldn’t stop shivering. Eventually, he gave in and draped his arm around his shoulders, pulling him in to share his body heat.  It was a wonder that Baekhyun hadn’t swooned there and then.

“Which house do you live in?” Baekhyun asked finally because the silence between them had grown somewhat unbearable.

“Number fifteen-”  
  
“Burger king foot lettuce. Is it the one with the big fish tank in the window? Mate, every time I come down this road I fucking _dream_ of living there. Their fish are living a better life than I am.”

“Well, that’s kinda...sad.”  
  
Baekhyun scratched Thanos under his chin absently. He was stuck in a perpetual state of waddling and shuffling, worried that he’d trip Chanyeol up if he walked any slower. He was so close and so ridiculously warm that Baekhyun was low-key worried because it reminded him of when he had stuck his ass straight into the oven after the heating gave out on them last Christmas. He felt breathless and reminiscent just thinking about it.

It turns out that although Chanyeol had been modest about the size of his house, it wasn’t one of the ridiculously large ones with rooms that looked fresh out of an IKEA catalogue. The windows were huge and many but up close they were masked with a thin layer of dirt. There were twines of wild ivy curling up the cracks in the brickwork and when Chanyeol opened the door for him it creaked loudly in resignation.

The interior was nicely decorated but somewhat empty, as if they’d unpacked half of their belongings and then stashed everything else away in the attic. Chanyeol lead him over to the kitchen and sat him down in front of a large island in the centre, the surface was made of cold marble and Baekhyun rested his burning cheek against it after he set Thanos down on the floor.

“Are your parents not home?” He asked and Chanyeol shrugged in return.  
  
“They work late. The house gets a little lonely sometimes, you know?”

Chanyeol poured some milk out for Thanos who had seemed to already have made himself comfortable by the radiator.  
  
“Why can’t you bring friends over?”  
  
“Isn’t that what I’m doing now?” Chanyeol answered slyly as he put the kettle on. He must have taken pity on Baekhyun’s fumbled response because he dismissed him with a wistful smile. “I moved here from Seoul around two and a half years ago because of my dad’s job. I transferred to your school in Year 8 but I didn’t know how to talk to anyone.”  
  
“But your English is bare sick,” Baekhyun exclaimed. “I can barely hear an accent.”  
  
“I had a tutor with me in Korea. I’ve learnt English ever since I was young but” - he pulled a face - “she never taught me what ‘wagwan’ meant and all that. I might as well have learnt a different language because I couldn’t understand anyone at all.”

“Where will you go after this?” It really wasn’t his intention to pry and Baekhyun made sure to make it sound as subtle as possible, but even so, he knew what he wanted to hear. He was hoping that Chanyeol would leave this place too in hopes of pursuing an impossible career, be it in acting, music or art. But more than anything, Baekhyun hoped that it would be enough to inspire him to do the same; when he felt like everything was working against him he would always look to Chanyeol.

“I’ll go away,” Chanyeol replied with a cryptic smile. “There’s nothing for me here. I don’t know what I want to do yet but I certainly won’t find it here.”

Part of him was waiting to feel that sudden rush of inspiration again. He was waiting for that fuel to help him make a rush for his dream again, regardless of who stood in his way but-  
  
“Is it that bad here?” Baekhyun said suddenly and he sat up straighter, his spine rigid and tingling. “In your fancy house that costs more than I’ll probably ever earn in my lifetime. Honestly, Chanyeol. What right do you have to complain?”

Chanyeol looked surprised but by no means intimidated. His smile fell away into concern but there wasn’t an ounce of guilt, probably because he had no clue what the hell just happened. “I’m not complaining,” he defended. “I just- Baek, what’s wrong with you?”  
  
“What’s wrong with _me?_ ” Baekhyun repeated with scorn and he felt equally confused because where was all this coming from? He liked Chanyeol. He didn’t want to start a fight with him but...there was that irritable angst that was building inside of him. “Do you have any idea what I would give to have what you have right now? Your grades, your house, your bloody parents that I’ve never met before in my _life_ . Do you know how much I would give to be _you?_ ”  
  
No. He was saying all the wrong things. Baekhyun had never given a shit before now and he was determined to think that he still didn’t. Why was he being so mean to someone who had ultimately been nothing but kind? Baekhyun had been many things: lazy, immature, childish, you name it. But one thing that he was sure of was that he wasn’t insecure. He had friends that were there for him, a brother who loved him and he’d never _dreamed_ of giving up who he was.  
  
So what was all this about? What was he saying?  
  
“Baek,” Chanyeol said firmly. “What happened today? You’re not acting like yourself.”  
  
“Believe it or not, Chanyeol, I’m not always sunshine and rainbows sometimes I’m…”

“What? Sad? Salty? Irritated?” _Damaged. Hurt. Deceiving._ “That’s _human_ , Baek. If anything I was wondering if you’d ever show it” -  then, in a softer tone, he repeated himself - “please tell me what happened today; I know it’s hurting you.”

“You’re...this...I feel like I’m in an episode of _The only way is Essex,_ but one of the bad ones-”  
  
“Every episode is a bad one, Baek,” Chanyeol replied coolly and he pushed the mug of tea into his hands (Baekhyun hadn’t even noticed it before then).

“Do you...have sugar?” Chanyeol arched an eyebrow, not because the request was strange but because he knew Baekhyun was stalling: no one liked sugar in cold tea.

He passed him the sugar cubes anyway.

The duality was bizarre. Only a few minutes ago, Baekhyun incredibly defensive, just like those problematic characters on the  Chanyeol watched him drop cube after cube into his lukewarm tea, not even pausing to taste it.

“I just had some week-old beef with the old man, that’s all. I finally told him what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go and I guess he wasn’t having it.”  
  
“What happened after?”

Baekhyun sniffed disdainfully as his seventh sugar cube bobbed up and down in his tea, he poked it with his finger and it finally went under the surface in a flurry of bubbles. Thanos farted softly from his perch on the radiator and Chanyeol cleared his throat impatiently.  
  
“Baek.”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“What happened after?”

“Ah,” said Baek, taking a sip of his rancid tea and grimacing. “He hit me.”

Chanyeol’s breath caught halfway up his throat just as he was breathing. Thankfully, he was able to turn his head away just as he spluttered all over his countertop in a hacking cough. Baekhyun patted him comfortingly on the back with one hand whilst he nonchalantly drank his tea with the other.

Before his coughing fit had even passed, Chanyeol took Baekhyun’s face in his hands, delicately tracing his ruddy cheeks with the calloused tips of his fingers.

“He hit you?” He repeated quietly and Baekhyun was surprised to see tears glittering in his eyes; though it could have been from the fact that he had nearly coughed his kidneys out just a couple of seconds before.

“Only once,” Baekhyun replied and he tried to act indifferent despite the rising ache in his heart. “On the cheek. You probably can’t even see it now.”  
  
But Chanyeol could. It was faint, almost perfectly blended in with the red blush on his cold cheeks, but it was definitely there and sooner or later it was bound to form a bruise.  “Oh, Baek…”  
  
“ Fuck ‘em anyway, right? Sometimes it really just be like that.” He pulled away from Chanyeol’s grip with a short, calloused laugh that didn’t sound right on him at all. The bitterness in his voice was enough to send an unpleasant spark down Chanyeol’s spine.

He didn’t really know what to say anymore. He was stuck, choked up on words that didn’t seem to make any sense. He couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why Baekhyun was so calm. “What are you saying?” He whispered. “Does anyone else know?”  
  
“My mum and you. You’d better not tell Taehyung or else.”  
  
“Or else what?”  
  
“I’ll make you fuck a lunchbox. Tenfold.”

“Why are you making these jokes? They’re not fucking funny!”  
  
“Come on, it’s a little funny. I wasn’t joking about the lunchbox though- it’ll be one of those nasty plastic Tupperware boxes, so be careful-”  
  
“ _Baek!_ ”  
  
“ _What?_ ” Baekhyun finally snapped back in return, mimicking Chanyeol’s tone in a sick, patronising way.

Chanyeol swallowed deeply, his hands clenched into tight fists that trembled by his sides because he was too afraid to touch Baekhyun right now. He was afraid because this was a very very ugly side of him that he doubted anyone had seen before. This was Baekhyun’s final defence; every sick joke and dismissive laugh was a brick that was now crumbling under the weight of his pain.

Baekhyun raised his mug again but Chanyeol caught his hands. Gently, he pried the mug out of his grip and placed it down on the counter. Then, with great care, he pulled Baekhyun’s head down to his chest and wrapped his arms around him protectively and with a wistful type of ferocity.

“Please. Don’t say anything else, Baek. Just cry. Allow yourself to do that.”

Baekhyun struggled against him, wriggling his arms free so that he could at least try to pry himself away. “Get off. I’m not a pussy. I don’t care. I don’t care what he thinks. He has no control over me- I don’t care.”

Chanyeol didn’t have to guess twice who ‘he’ was. While Baekhyun trembled in his arms, hands gripping his shirt into tight fists, Chanyeol placed his chin atop his head, his eyes alight with smouldering fury. It was the type of anger that made his entire body seize up with impossible tension; he could only hope that he didn’t crush Baekhyun between his arms there and then.

To have an unloving parent was one of the most isolating things in the world. Chanyeol knew this. They make you feel like you owe them something; that you’re indebted to them because of the roof they put over your head and the food they put out for you. They make the child feel like they should love them for this; that this was what a parent should do when that isn’t the case at all. A true parent is so much more than that: more than provisions and survival.

Where was the unconditional love that Baekhyun deserved? Where was the patience and advice and support? Because of his father, Baekhyun had been suppressed into a state that he couldn’t recognise. He’d made his own son feel so isolated in his own home that he couldn’t even bring himself to tell the one person who was closer to him than a brother.

It made Chanyeol’s blood boil.

Finally. _Finally,_ Baekhyun stopped resisting and Chanyeol felt a warm dampness on his shirt where he had started crying. They were soft, stifled sobs that melted the animosity in Chanyeol until it gave way into something more sorrowful. Chanyeol pressed a kiss down into Baekhyun’s wild hair and breathed in the scent of wind and cat.

He’d become so attached to him over the course of a few weeks it was almost laughable and as Baekhyun grabbed onto his shirt in fistfuls, Chanyeol closed his eyes. He’d make it his life's purpose to unteach the things that Baekhyun’s father had taught him; to wipe away those toxic words until he was a clean, blank slate, spoilt with the love that Chanyeol had to offer.  
  
He’d do it all for him. It’d be a long, arduous process but they’d get there. Chanyeol would bet everything on it.

“Thank you,” Baekhyun whispered against him, so softly that Chanyeol almost missed it.

“What for?”  
  
“Oh, you know, lending me your essay the first day we met, for playing your guitar for me, for tutoring me-” Baekhyun shifted so that his cheek was pressed against Chanyeol’s chest before continuing- “thanks for not judging me when I picked up a stray cat and called it Thanos-”  
  
“Wait,” Chanyeol scrunched his nose. “You called him _Thanos?_ Are you fucking kidding.”

He could feel Baekhyun smile against him. “Hey, it’s not so bad. Better than Lay.”

“Oh really? What’d he call his?”  
  
“Cat.”  
  
“Not very imaginative as names go.”  
  
“I told you so.”

Chanyeol felt Baekhyun shift again so he loosened his arms around him, enough so that he could shuffle away a little. Baekhyun straightened and fixed Chanyeol with a stare of unbreakable resolve. For the first time, Baekhyun looked completely sincere and almost powerful. Chanyeol almost felt intimidated.  
  
“I’m not a bitch.”  
  
“You’re not,” Chanyeol confirmed.  
  
“I’m not going to cry over my trash dad anymore. He can suck it.”  
  
“He can suck it,” Chanyeol parroted.  
  
“I’m going to study like a bitch.”  
  
Chanyeol considered that sentence and thought about correcting him about his contradiction, but Baekhyun was already on a roll.  
  
“I’m going to learn fifteen poems in a week, even though we only have one in the exam and you’re going to help me. Then I’m going to sing at the bloody gig and I’m going to kiss you on stage and drive a wrecking ball through the closet.”  
  
Chanyeol winced at that, but when Baekhyun stuck out his hand and dared to smile that smile of his...well...Chanyeol could only smile back and shake his hand.

 

 

 

  


 

 


End file.
